The Soldier and the Warrior
by SirMandokarla
Summary: In war, paths cross. Usually, it doesn't end well for somebody involved. For Havoc Squad CO Azeel and the huntress Aqura, this happens more often than it should. Still, they're not dead yet. Take the win.
1. Chapter 1

"Slavers," Aric muttered darkly. His fingers tightened on his gun, one by one, in some pattern Lieutenant Azeel couldn't recognize. He was glaring down at the massive warehouse district.

Not that that usually meant much. Except, this time, it did. Aric's glare had a furious heat to it, where it usually burned cold enough to give Azeel chills.

"Get the rappel line ready," Azeel ordered. She didn't bother being quiet. Even if Nar Shadaa weren't one of the noisiest planets she'd ever been on – minus war zones – they were two dozen stories above the target and well out of ear shot. That was the nice thing about Nar Shadaa. One could always get above a target zone.

What she would do for a jet pack.

Aric Jorgan got a great loop of rope out of his backpack and started tying it to a nearby beam without prompting. Azeel knew he would. He was a good soldier. While he worked, she took the chance to take one last look at the "base" below.

Sentients milled about along every street, dozens of alleys and walkways and nearly a hundred buildings. Some would be barracks, others slave pens, and a few, just a few, would be…

Azeel's face went a slightly darker shade of green, contrasting the black tattoos under her eyes and down her nose.

… processing plants.

It was going to be a lot more fun having this job done than doing it. Not something Azeel thought often.

At least she didn't have the same sense of smell Aric did. Cathar noses were way better than mirialan ones, and this was one time Azeel didn't envy that.

The rope flew out over the ledge, unraveling for story after story all the way down to the platforms below, snapping and whipping in the wind until it hit full length and went noticeably more rigid. Not perfect, but better than nothing against the fetid winds of Nar Shadaa.

"No point wasting time," Aric growled, fixing his CO with a glare as he tilted his head towards the rappel line.

Azeel walked up to the line, grabbed it, and swung out to put her feet just on the ledge. Aric's glare actually softened slightly as she let go without a word, dropping out of sight.

Then a crashing rumble hit her ears and she lost concentration. Her hands loosened and her fall accelerated, and she tried to turn and see what she'd heard even as she made to slow her fall as best she could. Her fingers caught, friction-burned enough to feel through environmentally-sealed gloves, and then she hit the ground and rolled.

Lucky roll. Thank the Force. She hit, shot backwards as her momentum shifted to horizontal, stumbled to her feet, and nearly lost her lunch at the sudden change in velocity.

Then her training, both mirialan and Republic special forces, kicked in. Her nausea washed away and she knelt, spun, and drew her rifle all in one motion. Her left hand stayed loose on her rifle barrel, ready to drop and pull the pin on a smoke grenade.

She needn't have bothered.

Brown and rusted streets were lit orange and red with fire, then obscured with the brown and black of smoke. Cracking, rolling explosions washed over the soldier's ears and she dove for the cover of a pair of stray crates beside the nearest warehouse.

What in the galaxy was going on here? This was a slave trade. Nothing flammable or explosive in the entire place, except maybe on the belts of a few paranoid firebug slavers. So why did it look like the street was on fire?

A glance backwards caught Aric taking the rappel line at exactly regulation speeds. He was about three quarters of the way down.

Down the street, amidst the flames, the explosions seemed to have died down. There was a glint of something through the flames, a flash of metal not coated in a patina of grime and grease. Something… gold?

In spite of the lapse in explosions, the roar of fire and the yells of slavers kept Azeel from hearing her squadmate's footsteps. Even so, she felt him arrive before he spoke up.

"Sir," he growled, "the mission is compromised. We should pull back and-"

That made up Azeel's mind.

"Let's go!" She stood up and ran towards the flames, laughing loudly at Aric's cursing behind her. "C'mon, Deadeye, keep up!"

The flames were dying down, and they split before the soldier. She passed through with her gun raised, ready for whatever might be on the other side.

Which turned out to be exactly one golden-armoured Mandalorian putting blaster bolts into two weequay mercenaries.

She almost shot the Mandalorian in the back. Sure, it might not be the honourable thing, but it was a surefire way not to get killed by a Mando.

For some reason, she yelled, "freeze!" instead.

The warrior whirled on Azeel, then hesitated. Both soldiers already had their guns aimed and ready. "Don't even think about it," Aric warned.

"Republic?" asked a synthesized voice incredulously. The warrior lowered the blaster pistol he or she held. "What're you doing here?"

Aric was going to say something needlessly aggressive to the heavily armoured mercenary, so Azeel held one finger up to silence him, then said, "we could ask you the same question."

The Mando shrugged. "Killing slavers." Then the blaster pistol came up again. "Got a problem with that?"

Azeel couldn't help herself. She snorted. "Hells, no," she said. "That's what we came here for, anyway."

"Oh." The armoured figure lifted its blaster away and nodded, "good," then turned away and walked towards the door of the nearest warehouse. After a second, he or she turned back and asked, "you coming?"

Aric and Azeel exchanged a look, then the Mando said, "unless you want to follow the explosions around, that is."

Azeel led the way, leaving cover and trotting up to the person. "What's your name?" she asked. "I mean, I could call out Mando the entire time we're shooting at the same stuff, but it's gonna get old fast."

A shifting of heavy armour in a shrug. "You might as well. I go by Mandokarla."

Azeel raised an eyebrow. "What, you're a Mando named Karla?"

"No, it's- never mind. Call me what you want, Green. Let's go kill some slavers."

Hard to argue with that, even if it was a terrible nickname.

The warehouse was big and filled with boxes and loading equipment. Nothing special, and nothing that would have seemed out of the ordinary in any other place on Nar Shadaa. That might be a bad sign, if it turned out intel was all wrong and the place was filled with average gangsters rather than slavers.

Havoc Squad and their hanger-on picked up the pace across the empty warehouse, heading straight for a normal-sized door beside a loading dock.

There were noises on the other side, people yelling back and forth, general chaos. Definite signs of a fight on the way. When they reached the door, their shoulders clanked together.

Azeel looked at Karla incredulously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to open this door and hit them hard and fast," Karla replied in that synthetic monotone.

The mirialan shook her head. "That's my job. I'll go first, you come right after."

A T-slit visor stared coldly at Azeel, and she glared it down. After a few seconds, Karla nodded again. "I'll just stand back and watch for a bit, then. No point in getting in each other's way."

"I've got my eye on you, Mandalorian," Aric threatened. "Move carefully."

Karla gave Aric a look, and Azeel suddenly remembered something she should have thought of from the start: the Mandalorians had done their best to commit genocide against the cathar people three hundred years ago in the Mandalorian Wars.

She grit her teeth and hoped Aric was professional enough not to shoot Karla before he or she – probably she, with a name like that – did anything to deserve it. Well, anything else.

Karla slammed the door open and Azeel burst through. On the other side, Azeel blinked against the neon glare of street lights and did an instinctive head count. Outnumbered about four to one. Not bad.

Any more than that didn't matter much, since she was almost among them. That meant they'd be dead too soon for the rest to matter.

Two went down in the first volley of blasterfire, then she hit a particularly ugly Weequay across the face with the butt of her rifle. He went down and stayed down. Blasterfire sounded behind her as Aric laid down a cone of fire that was far more accurate than a cannon that size had any right to be.

With a flick of her thumb on a lever and a pull of both triggers on her rifle – something that had taken weeks to commit to instinct – Azeel filled the air with arcs of lightning. The ion cell in her rifle burned through its usually long life in a pair of seconds, and three slavers fried.

Two left. One had a massive wrench of some kind, the other, a gun.

Two shots took Azeel in the right side and, even with her armour, they pushed her back.

She took the momentum and pivoted, spinning to put the wrench-wielder in between herself and the gunwoman. She had her shoulder to her attackers, a meditative trick running through her head to clear the stunning effects of the blaster bolt, and a wrench coming down towards her head.

She winced preemptively. Her rifle came up to block the blunt instrument. Not fast enough.

Instead of a cracking pain in her head, Azeel heard a whistling roar and then an explosion. Dust and wind blew into her, followed by the man with the wrench. It was a softer impact than she'd been expecting, but heavier, and it took her to the ground. She rolled, trying to untangle herself from the struggling human, and managed to kick him off of her with some judicial application of knees.

As soon as the man was off her, a blast from Aric's cannon made sure he didn't get back up.

The woman who'd fired the blaster was definitely not getting up again. Nor was she all that recognizable as a woman.

Azeel looked up from the carnage-littered street and towards the only person with a weapon capable of putting a crater in the street. Karla the Mandalorian was walking up to her as if everything were perfectly normal.

"Looks like you need eyes in the back of your head and you should be fine," the Mandalorian commented drily. "Sorry about the missile. Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"You could have killed her, Mandalorian," Aric growled, jogging up to the group. His ears were tilted back slightly. He was feeling more on edge than usual, then. Either that was flattering, because he was worried for his CO, or worrying, because he was ready to pick a fight with the woman packing micro-missiles around.

Azeel raised her hands between the two. "But I'm fine," she said, gesturing towards herself. "See? Not a scratch."

Well, not quite true. There was scuff on her shoulder plate from the roll across the ground, and she had two scorch marks on the right side of her stomach.

They'd buff out.

Aric grunted, more than used to her nonchalance. She had no doubt that, after the mission, he'd write up yet another of those complaint forms he never filed and didn't think she knew about. She did. She kept a tally on a calendar in her room.

"And you," she said, rounding on the Mandalorian, who pulled back slightly, "be careful with the missiles and flamethrowers. You can't buy looks like these."

To prove her point, Azeel brushed a hair through silvery dreadlocks and winked a bright red eye at Karla. The combination was striking, especially against her green skin and black tattoos, and she knew it.

The Mando, however, was unimpressed, which either confirmed that Karla was female, or meant he/she simply didn't swing that way. "Why not put on a helmet, then?" she asked in her synthetic voice.

Azeel rolled her eyes. "Like I said: you can't buy looks like these."

Karla stared at her for a second, then shrugged and moved on. Lieutenant Azeel turned to join her, gesturing for Aric to catch up.

It was easy from there, for several blocks. Scattered groups of slavers milled around and looked lost until they spotted the intruders, and seconds later they were on the ground, unmoving. As always with the mini-Havoc Squad's operations, they kept moving. Momentum was key to keeping the bad guys off balance and scared.

One street. Two. Another dozen slavers. For the most part, Karla still hung back and watched, though she took potshots once in a while when she thought it was necessary. Three streets, and a new scorch mark across Azeel's left shoulder. Further on, and Azeel was starting to think they must be running out of slavers. The compound was big, but they must have killed forty or fifty at that point.

She was wrong. She was very wrong.

The sound of pounding feet is usually a quiet thing, certainly quieter than most other things in situations when they came up, like pounding heart, panting breath, or maybe the clank of armour or sounds of whatever is chasing the runner.

The dozens of people running up the street could be heard before Azeel and her sidekicks turned the corner.

Naturally, Azeel walked blithely around the corner anyway.

A hand at the neck of her armour dragged her back before a volley of blaster fire washed over the spot she'd been.

The lieutenant gave Aric a glare, then leaned forward and held onto the rickety edge of the warehouse wall, peeking out at the oncoming horde. Then she pulled back.

"Ten seconds," she reported to Aric, who looked, well, like Aric always did. "Artillery and suppressive fire. We need a barrier, too."

She looked at the Mandalorian, who nodded. "I'll handle it." Then Karla activated her jetpack and leapt two stories up to the top of the warehouse.

Azeel didn't even look at Aric. He was used to taking cues from action instead of words by now. Grumpy, he might be, but he was adaptable.

The lieutenant looked across the garbage-strewn street to the next warehouse.

One of the primary necessities of a successful firefight: crossing and overlapping fields of fire. That meant that Azeel and Aric needed to be attacking from different angles.

She took a deep breath, let it out, and charged. Blaster fire sounded half a second afterward. She pulled the pin on a smoke grenade. In another half a second, her outline was completely invisible. Then she dove, rolled, dropped the grenade, and crawled the last meter into cover.

In her comm bead, Aric's voice hissed. "Check in."

Azeel grunted, "fire."

From opposite sides of the street, Havoc Squad opened fire. Ion trails lit streaks through the smoke. Azeel was firing blind, but it didn't matter. She had a good sense of where the enemy was, and cries of surprise and pain told her she was on the mark more often than not. Not that that was hard, with how many there were.

A part of her counted the seconds that had passed and guessed where the enemy front was. Another part just knew, like it always knew, what she had to do.

A quick thank you to her gun ran through her head. It was a good thing the tech-heads had packed so many tricks into the thing. She'd need them all.

She flicked that lever back to the middle position and once again squeezed both triggers. This time, it's wasn't an ion stream that came from the barrel. It wasn't even the main barrel that fired. Instead, the under-slung barrel launched three grenades in quick succession. Across the way, Aric's cannon roared louder than the slavers screaming in the shrapnel and smoke.

Azeel closed one eye against the wind. The explosions blew away the smoke, and she could see the oncoming enemy again.

Half a dozen were practically on top of her, including a particularly ugly trandoshan.

Why were all trandoshans the colour of a sick mirialan? Every time she got a nasty cold, she'd go look in the mirror and there stood every memory she had of an encounter with a trandoshan. Not happy memories, obviously.

More explosions, not hers or Aric's doing, tore apart many of the slavers still on the street. There were still dozens more.

Azeel stepped forward, kicked the oncoming trandoshan, and fried him and the others near her, burning through another ion cell and four slavers. The other two, she killed with a combination of blaster fire and bludgeoning.

Nar Shadaa. What a great place. The Empire never knew what to expect of "aliens", but on Nar Shadaa, everybody saw a mirialan and thought, "oh, look, it's going to meditate at us." Then they were on the ground. Azeel couldn't ask for a better advantage.

Though, the trandoshan currently simmering on the ground in front of her smelled like unwashed burnt lizard meat. Yuck.

She could just hear Aric: "you should wear a helmet. It would filter the air."

Shut up, imaginary cathar.

The oncoming wall of men and women with guns hesitated then. Many dove for what cover they could find in crates, outcroppings of wall, and piles of refuse. Made sense. Aric was going through energy cells with a gusto he rarely displayed, and the first ones to reach the end of the street had just been fried crispy.

Azeel laughed, then shuddered at the thought of eating trandoshan meat.

Never eat anything from a species that can do calculus, that was what the med officer in basic told her.

Good rule.

Oh, right!

Azeel aimed down the street, picked a target, and put three blaster bolts into center mass. Aric could unload with the cannon. He had bigger energy cells in the thing. Azeel's rifle, she had to be more efficient.

So, three in the closest target, then three in the next, and so on. Stick with the basics until the situation changed and she could use a different trick or retake the initiative.

Like when a group of humans broke off to skirt the wall near Aric, putting them in plain view of Azeel. She smirked, took aim, and launched a grenade above their heads. It hit the wall, the explosion reflected and compounded on itself, and every one of them was blasted into the middle of the street, minus a few important bits.

Quick head count: 10, 20, more, lots.

Azeel scowled, cursed, and kept shooting. This sort of fighting was boring!

A flicker of movement, a glint of gold in the neon lights. The soldier glanced up to the roof of one of the warehouses.

There was Karla, standing high above the street. She raised both her arms.

Azeel's eyes followed her aim. She wasn't aiming at the horde, but above it. What…?

There. A container of some kind on the side of a warehouse, a tank that spanned a story and a half in height. If Karla was going to shoot that, she must have known what was in it.

Except, Karla didn't shoot the tank. Not exactly. Two missiles shot out, one to each side of the container, and punched in the metal walls of the warehouse.

The supports!

With the upper supports ruined, the tank gave a keening wail as its lower supports strained and bent. Then it tore from the wall. The tank fell and crashed into the ground, crushing a few people and stopping the progress of most of the others.

A few, however, were trapped with Azeel and Aric.

Azeel grinned. This was more like it.

She charged, laughing. It took two precious seconds for the slavers to turn away from the tank they'd nearly been crushed by. By then, Azeel was half a second from on top of them.

Two blaster bolts into that one's face. Butt of the rifle into that one's gut. Grab a cryo grenade, toss it to the next one.

This would be so much more interesting with music. Something hard and fast, but with a rhythm she could time. Like Bothan Kark'edep. Kark-edep? Whatever.

That one's frozen. Rail shot through those two, break that one's-

OW!

Azeel wiped her bloody nose.

Thanks for nothing, Force.

She imagined the Force shrugging its collective not-shoulders, like it was her fault for not listening.

The person who'd punched her in the face was coming in for another, and Azeel's eyes were streaming with tears, because that was what happened when somebody got a broken nose.

Her comm crackled, and Aric's voice said, "got your back."

Good.

Unlike most cases, when Aric said he had her back, he meant it a little more literally. As of now, Azeel didn't have to worry about anything behind her.

So she focused on the greenish-grey blur in front of her, which stuck out nicely from the brown and neon around them. She ducked her head and felt the wind of a punch she'd sort of guessed was coming, and charged.

The impact with the man's chest – it was pretty obviously a man's – pushed blood to her head. That blood decided it didn't like its new home so much, and it spurted out of her nose. Even so, she bore the man to the ground, laughing and growling at the same time. The man's breath rushed from his lungs, and Azeel took a good guess where his head was. She curled up a fist and punched as hard as she could. A haymaker, in the hopes that she wouldn't just punch the ground if she missed.

Something broke. Probably the man's cheek. Also probably one of her knuckles. So she wound up her other arm and punched with that one, angling around one of the arms he'd raised to fend her off.

This one also hit, and this time Azeel's fist won, so she wound up and hit again, and again, and again.

Left-handed, Azeel was not, but it worked out.

Finally, the man's hands fell, and the mirialan woman was able to blink the tears away from her eyes. She stood up and surveyed the carnage.

Eight dead, two broken bones. Not bad. She reached into a satchel with her left hand, pulled out a med syringe, and injected her neck with a kolto solution.

Five minutes and some concentration, and her right hand should be pretty usable again.

Also, painkillers. Praise be.

Since she couldn't shake her hair out of her eyes without losing a few mils of blood, Azeel reached up and brushed the white mass out of her face, grinning at Aric. The cathar was jogging up the street towards her.

He nodded his head behind her, and she turned around.

On the other side of the tank, screams, blasterfire, and explosions could be heard, echoing off the warehouse walls.

Karla was stealing all the kills!

Azeel stowed her rifle, ran up to the tank, grabbed hold of a strut, and climbed up. She had to use her right hand to get on top of the tank, but hey, painkillers.

When she saw the other side, the first thought that went through her mind was, "wow. She really didn't need us."

Somehow, Karla had collapsed debris on the other end of the street, cutting off any escape for the slavers. She was in the middle of them, and it was definitely them trapped in there with her, rather than the other way around. There were charred corpses littering the ground, the ground was littered with charred bits that had to be the victims of explosives, and several more had perfectly placed cuts and stab wounds leaking blood onto the ground.

Aric came up beside her. They were both safe. Nobody down there was paying attention to anything but the rampaging Mandalorian amongst them.

"I thought he was wearing heavy armour," grunted Aric.

He? Azeel would have given her squadmate a sidelong glance, but she couldn't take her eyes off Karla. Honestly, she moved like a gymnast. Azeel could brawl with the best of them, but this…

Karla lunged, put a wrist-mounted vibroblade into the throat of a rodian, then spun and followed up with a leg-snapping kick on the next slaver. Her jetpack fired for an instant, and she reversed direction, taking to the air and kicking – with the other leg – a human woman in the chest hard enough to cave it in. She landed, her flamethrower spewing flames into the crowd.

Then Aric opened up with his cannon and, without cover, the slavers had nowhere to run.

Azeel almost yelled at the taciturn soldier. Something along the lines of, "hey, I was watching that," would be appropriate.

She gave a sigh and took a pair of incendiary grenades out of her bandoleer, tossing both as far as she could. One did what it was supposed to, landing on the pile of debris and lighting it on fire. The other didn't get quite as far, and though it started a small fire, it didn't catch on anything that would keep somebody from trying to climb the debris on that side of the street.

It didn't matter. Aric had the escapes covered, and Karla was more than capable of keeping the crowd busy. It took maybe fifteen seconds to wipe out the entire group, and that only because Azeel didn't help much. Not that she was sulking or anything, just that she was missing out on Karla stomping all over a bunch of slavers because Aric felt like helping. They had it handled. Obviously. She didn't need to pitch in much.

When the whole thing was over, Aric and Azeel climbed over the tank and dropped down on the other side. Karla was jogging over to the debris fire. She raised an arm and sprayed the whole thing down with something, probably a carbonite mist, and it fizzled and died.

"Well," the lieutenant commented, grinning, "that was easy."

"I don't know," Karla said in that computer monotone. She rolled her shoulders. "Could have been fewer at once."

Azeel waved a hand dismissively. "Just would have made it all take longer."

Karla nodded once, hesitantly, then asked, "where do you think they're keeping all the slaves? None of these buildings look like anywhere I'd put..."

She trailed off, as if realizing how little it mattered what she thought people deserved for living quarters.

"Hut'uune," she growled. The sound was bizarrely primal through the voice synthesizer. Then she turned to walk away, through the pile of debris she'd managed to throw over the street.

Aric reached out to grab her by the shoulder. She shrugged it off. "Where do you think you're going," he growled.

Karla kept walking, but she called back, "I'm going to go find those slaves, assuming most of the slavers are dead in this suicidal charge, which I'm pretty sure they are."

"Freeze!"

Azeel's eyes went wide. She looked between Karla, who'd stopped and turned around, and Aric, who had his gun pointed at the Mandalorian.

"Is that how it is, Republic?" Karla made no move, but her blaster pistol was already in her hand. She'd never holstered it. This could turn bloody, fast. "As soon as we aren't pointed the same direction, you're aimed at me? You don't want that. I don't care what kind of blood debt my people owe yours, I'm not going to roll over and die for you."

"You're not getting anywhere near the people imprisoned here without us right beside you."

It should have been impossible to tell with the helmet, but Karla obviously stared at Aric for a second. Then she laughed once. "That's the problem? Osik, Grumpy, I wasn't leaving you behind in the first place. Now come on. If we can't split up to search, we should hurry up."

It took the soldiers a bit longer to get over the debris than it took the Mando with the jetpack. Still, she didn't leave them behind, as promised.

"We should check every building," Azeel suggested. "They've got to be here somewhere, now that we're getting to the back of the place."

"You mean, now that we're out of earshot of anywher civilians usually go," Karla muttered darkly. "Yeah. I think the same thing."

They took up positions behind the Mandalorian, which she didn't seem to think was unusual. As soon as they set out, Azeel leaned close to Aric.

"What the hells are you doing, Sergeant?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lieutenant."

Splitting up to go around a street light gave Azeel ample time to glare at her subordinate. Then they were back to hugging the wall together.

"Picking fights with the Mando," Azeel hissed. "We're getting along fine except for you being all… catty."

Aric's permanent scowl dialed up a notch. "You already know, and you don't understand. I think that's enough for both of us. Sir."

Azeel flinched away and left it at that. There wasn't much to say. The cathar genocide wasn't any less horrible for not being personal. And it wasn't like she wasn't getting her wish. Aric was, indeed, professional enough not to shoot Karla in the back. He just didn't trust her further than he could throw her iron-armoured ass.

Come to think of it, why did she?

Azeel watched Karla's gold-plated back as they poked in and out of various warehouses, all filled with crates, bunks, moving equipment and, to Azeel's disgust and horror, some lab facilities.

There wasn't anything quite as perfect for testing dangerous-but-near-completion drugs as slaves were.

Karla, for her part, seemed to have no reaction to the implications of the labs. Stronger stomach, or just inured to the whole thing. Mandos worked a lot with the Empire, after all.

All the more reason not to trust one. So why was Azeel finding it so easy?

The same reason she always did, probably. A feeling. Because Azeel, like so many mirialans, had a better connection to the Force than most species. Her people might consider her basically Force-blind, but she could feel something trustworthy in this hunter. Maybe familiar.

Of course, a "real" mirialan would know exactly where that feeling came from and would meditate until she also knew what it meant.

Azeel found herself rolling her eyes at the very thought.

This was why she didn't visit home often.

Her thoughts kept wandering as the three of them searched the area. They covered more than half of the warehouses and killed a pair of new slavers before Aric put a hand to her shoulder, startling her. She stopped, letting Karla walk into the warehouse so Aric could say whatever he needed to say.

When he didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, Azeel asked, "what is it?"

"You don't want to go in there," he said simply.

Her eyes snapped to follow the Mandalorian, who'd disappeared into the dimly-lit building. "Why? What's-"

She cut off as the smell wafted out of the building. Antiseptic and the coppery tang of blood. Something else, too, but something she couldn't describe except to say it smelled – tasted, even – like death.

"Oh." She whispered. She didn't say any more before the sound of crashing metal on floorboards could be heard, and Karla shot out of the building at the speed of a launching fighter.

"Karla-"

The Mandalorian ignored her, running across the street in a drunken lurch. She stumbled to the wall, crashed into it shoulder-first, and reached up to her helmet, scrabbling at the clasps on her neck. Azeel jogged over to try to help, and was close enough to get a good look when she got her helmet off.

The soldier's first thought was, "holy hells, she's gorgeous." Her second was, "hey, I was right. She is a woman."

Her third was, "aghk! Gross!" In fairness to the Mandalorian, it wasn't a reaction prompted by her face, but by the fact that she'd started violently heaving any and all contents of her stomach onto the street. Orange-yellow and green stuff splattered on the ground, and Azeel jumped back as if it were blaster fire.

"Hey," she snapped, "watch-"

She cut off.

Tears were streaming down the woman's cheeks, and they didn't look like tears of pain.

Azeel's eyes went wide. She glanced back at the building Karla'd just run out of. Just for a second.

"You didn't know," she whispered.

Either Karla didn't hear her, or she was too busy throwing up to respond. Slowly, the Mandalorian sank to her knees, still wretching.

Slowly, the heaving turned dry, and then trailed off into a painful-sounding retch. A few seconds later, after some exhausted panting, Karla stood up.

Azeel froze. Her brain just stuttered to a halt when the woman caught her eyes. Beautiful eyes. Sapphire blue eyes, with a scar running vertically over the right one.

Familiar eyes.

"Aqura," she murmured. The woman who'd shown up during the evacuation of Alsaffan, who'd saved Azeel's life.

The one who was wanted for sabotaging Alsaffan's orbital defenses and killing their royal guard.

"What they did in there," Aqura croaked, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could unsee it. "The bodies… they were still alive when..."

"You gave an entire planet to the Empire," Azeel accused.

"There aren't any slaves here at all." Aqura actually looked lost, staring right past Azeel's head. "It's an organ-trafficking ring. They brought people here and they tore them apart."

Azeel raised her gun, a bit hesitantly, and pointed it at the warrior. Aqura's eyes finally focused properly. She blinked once at the gun, then looked the mirialan soldier in the face. Her hand tightened on her helmet, but her face kept that same stunned expression.

"What are you doing?"

Azeel sighed and ground her teeth in a frustrated grimace. This wasn't what she wanted to do, she'd admit that. But she was a soldier of the Republic. So she held her gun steady on the Mandalorian's chest and said, "Aqura, Mandokarla, whatever you want to be called, you're under arrest for violation of the Treaty of Coruscant. You will be tried as a war criminal by the Republic Senate-"

"You can't be serious!"

"-for your actions on Alsaffan. I hereby take you into custody, to be transported to the authorities-"

"There are butchers still here!"

"-and thereafter to a Republic holding facility, where you will await trial."

"You're just going to leave all of this?"

Azeel shook her head and called out, "Aric!"

He stood beside her a second later. "Sir."

"Call in for a sweeper team," she ordered, "forensics with an escort, to get here and clear the place out. Our priorities have just shifted. We're taking Aqura in for war crimes."

That pronouncement didn't surprise the cathar. He'd heard the entire thing already. All he did was turn and start up a holocall to a local Republic base. Not many of those on Nar Shadaa. Fewer that were reliable.

Aric would handle it.

"I saved your life on Alsaffan," Aqura hissed, finally over her surprise and shifting rapidly into anger.

Azeel nodded in acknowledgment, but her gun didn't shift. "You did. I'll do what I can to defend you at your trial. But this, here, it's over. I have to deal with the bigger problem."

Aqura stabbed a finger at the building behind Azeel. The soldier flinched minutely, almost pulling the trigger on her rifle. "A bigger problem than that? What happened in there has to be punished! If we've left even a single one of them alive-"

"Then they will be captured and questioned by the next team coming in," Azeel said calmly.

It was a facade. She agreed with Aqura, she really did. But she was a soldier. No matter how she acted to everyone around her, the war came before everything else. Letting someone who'd helped capture an entire planet go… she just couldn't do that, even in the face of what was in that building.

"They'll be gone by then." Aqura's eyes were darting around. It was obvious she was about to make a move. That was insane, even by Azeel's standards. The human was unarmed, had nowhere to run that wasn't in firing sight for twenty meters, and was up against two of Republic's best.

A part of Azeel's mind thought, "she does have a jetpack," a second before Aqura moved.

Later, even in her official report, Lieutenant Azeel would admit she hesitated. How could she not? She had a gun on an unarmed, technically civilian, individual who'd both saved her life and was wanted alive for questioning. And Havoc Squad had no non-lethal methods for incapacitating targets short of hand-to-hand and rope. It was enough to make even the best hesitate. And Azeel was the best.

So, when Aqura moved, Azeel pulled away from the trigger first. Aqura had enough time to lift up her helmet and block the first shot, then kick the soldier's rifle into the air. Then, in a burst of flames, the hunter leapt up into the air, jetpack taking her up and over the warehouse.

The mirialan scrambled for her rifle, which knocked against the wall and fell into the puddle of sick on the ground.

She was going to need hours to take the thing apart and make sure everything still functioned later.

Cursing and ducking under the worthless cover of her own arms, the Azeel tried to get a view of where the armoured Mando had gone. Aric, apparently having unslung his cannon in record time, put a few rounds up over the roof of the warehouse, but it was useless. Aqura was gone.

"Sir," Aric began.

"I hesitated, alright?!" Azeel picked up her rifle as violently as she could manage. "She was unarmed; I didn't want to kill her. Just… argh!"

"Mandalorians are never unarmed," Aric muttered darkly. "We have to track her down."

Their commlinks squawked. They both glanced at each other. Then it happened again.

"-think I've got- yes. Hello?"

Aric waited for Azeel to make a decision. It wasn't a familiar voice on the line. It couldn't be a coincidence, though.

Havoc's CO put a hand to her ear to block out the general noise of Nar Shadaa. "This is Havoc Squad Leader, Lieutenant Azeel. You are on a secure military frequency. What the hells is going on?"

"Secure?" repeated the voice on the other end, laughing. "I think it took- look, never mind. You two need to get out of there right now. The boss is mad, and I'm trying to talk her out of doing something we both know she'll regret. If you run, you'll be fine, okay? But you have to go now."

That feeling in Azeel's gut acted up, the one that told her something bad was about to happen. She traded a glance with Aric. The Sergeant's ears were twitching rapidly, and he appeared to be suppressing a wince.

Yes, Azeel thought, definitely a bad sign.

"Aric," she barked, "we're moving out. NOW."

Aric opened his mouth. He was going to protest. Azeel didn't let him. She picked a direction, the fastest way to the edge of the compound, and ran. He'd catch up because it was his job.

"Oh, good," said the voice on the comm. "I'm really sorry about this."

Before Azeel could ask what, exactly, the voice was sorry about, a screeching sound started building. A high, keening wail of metal on metal, broken up by the sound of sparking electronics and shattering transparisteel and glass.

Something very, very big was falling towards them. And the sound was a _lot_ louder than it should be.

The lieutenant stopped and whirled around to see her squadmate stumbling to the ground, clutching his ears.

Alien biology 101: certain species hear into different frequencies and hear different frequency sets more acutely.

She ran back to Aric, one hand to her ear. "Hey, smarty-pants. If you really want us to get out of here alive, transmit a counter-harmonic for metal-on-metal, right now."

She took off her commpiece and shoved it onto Aric's ear. It didn't fit at all; it was the wrong ear size and shape, and it was on the wrong side, but it was the best she could manage. It would block out sound as much as it could, and she couldn't afford to hold his head. She'd be too busy holding him.

She grabbed hold of the bigger soldier, unclasping the strap of his cannon to leave it behind, and slung his arm over her shoulder. Then she stood and ran. He stumbled along with her as the sound of screeching metal grew louder, punctuated at times by tremendous crashing sounds.

She dared a glance up.

That was a ship. That was a FRIGATE coming down at them from who knew how many stories up.

She nearly tripped for her inattention, but she did what she always did: powered through it. Whatever extra reserve the Force always granted her, she tapped into it, ducked her head, and charged.

The noise grew loud enough to hurt.

There was shelter at the edge of the sector. Two blocks away. One and a half. The sound grew so loud that Azeel couldn't see straight. One block away. She couldn't even hear herself screaming in rage and frustration and pain anymore. Half a block, and the sound cut out. She didn't hear anything anymore. If there were any justice in the galaxy, that would mean it didn't hurt anymore. Except it did. It really, really did.

By the time they stumbled the last steps into shelter, it was Aric supporting her as much as her supporting him, and she had no idea how close the ship was except that she could feel the sound in her bones.

Sergeant Aric tried to stumble to a halt as soon as they were in cover, but the Lieutenant kept going. Maybe she wanted to be safer than sorry. Maybe she wanted as much distance as possible. Maybe she just knew that she was going forward and that meant she shouldn't stop. Whatever it was, when they finally dragged each other those last few steps before the freighter hit, they were both past what they felt they could handle.

Then the world came apart.

Not even surprised, Azeel thought to herself distantly as the ground bucked and the walls caved in. This was what happened when you dropped a ship on something.

The rumbling knocked them around hard, and a few things definitely got battered and broken. It didn't matter to Azeel. She held on to Aric, doing her best to make sure he didn't get too hurt. He couldn't handle that sort of thing like she could.

Force plus kolto equals double-plus healing, she thought. More accurately, she got about halfway through the thought before Aric landed on top of her during a more violent wave of destruction.

Eventually, it was all over. At least, it probably was. It didn't feel like the world was tearing itself apart anymore. She still couldn't hear anything, though, and she was having trouble seeing. Stupid black spots getting in the way of everything. She kept trying to blink them away, and her head sort of waved around as she tried to get her balance back. Wasn't she on her back? Why did she feel off-balance?

Aric's face appeared in her view. Two black spots blotted out his cheeks for a second. She imagined whiskers just underneath, and giggled. He was saying something. She couldn't hear what. He looked unhappy. He always looked unhappy.

"Grumpy," she tried to say, and when she realized she hadn't actually said it, she said it louder. "Grumpy!"

Huh. Why couldn't she hear- Oh, right. She couldn't hear anything anymore.

She should be doing something. Something mom would want her to be doing.

Get up, Azeel. Get up.

That wasn't mom.

But it was somebody worth listening to. It was good advice. Always get up. Always keep moving forward.

She tried to rock forward and stand up. Her head came forward and smashed into Aric's.

"Ow," she mumbled, and didn't hear that either. From the look of Aric, he was even less happy about it than she was.

Ow! Bright light! And Aric wasn't letting her close her eyes. He was holding them open!

Grumpy cat was a jerk.

Get up. Get up and move. Don't stop for anything.

So she tried to stand up again. This time, Aric held a hand to her chest, and it was like he was suddenly super-strong, because she couldn't move at all. Still, she tried. She struggled as best she could, focusing with all her might on standing up.

Stay still and die. Get up and move. Move to win. Victory is always forward.

What the hells, Aric? He should let her go. She had to get moving. There was somewhere… somewhere she had to go… right?

Even though she was angry at Aric – and suddenly she couldn't remember why that was – he put a hand to her head. It felt very nice. Soft and furry. Kind of like a reverse-pet.

Azeel giggled again.

Then there was a sharp pain in her neck, and she hissed. Aric took his hand away.

The spots were back. No, it was all coming from the edges, all getting dark.

Focus. Fight it. That thing mom was always talking about. Do that.

Focus. Meditate.

But it wouldn't come. She was losing the fight. She hated losing!

"Aric," she yelled, or whispered, as darkness took her, "help."

"Mrr… phrgl..."

"As motivational speeches go, I've heard better."

Azeel laughed before she even realized who'd told the joke or where she was.

Aric, however, seemed pretty startled about the woman draped over his shoulders moving at all.

"What the- Lieutenant, status report."

"M'awake… m'wake..."

The cathar shook his head. "That has to be a new record," he muttered. "You know that sedative is supposed to last for six hours? Some day, I'm going to figure out why you react so unusually to every medicine I administer."

"Yaay..." Azeel mumbled, "new record..."

Aric snorted softly. He didn't put her down. That was probably a good thing. She had a pretty amazing headache.

Slowly, Havoc Squad headed back to their ship.

Mission accomplished.

Ugh. What a day.


	2. Chapter 2

The old man's face took on a haunted cast. "Something attacked us from inside," he said. "I don't remember..."

BOOM

The entire building shook, then shook again. Sergeant Elara Dorne latched onto M1-4X and let the big droid support her with his four legs. Lieutenant Azeel spread her legs and barely managed to keep her balance. Sergeant Aric Jorgan and old man Grommik just fell over.

When the rumbling died down, Elara went to go help Grommik up. Lt. Azeel turned to look at the holocommunicator that was nearly hidden amongst the power tools and junk on one of the benches.

The holocomm flickered and activated, revealing a man with a face that matched Grommik's tool bench, except that the metal flickered more.

"I think that's enough from the old man, don't you?" asked Gayem Leksende.

Grommik stumbled backwards into one of his work tables. "You're Czerka," he said, pushing away from Sergeant Dorne. "I recognize your uniform!"

Leksende scoffed. "Pity the suns dulled his brain, but then, I suspect he was never too bright. Yes, Grommik. I'm with Czerka."

"Still unwilling to come in person?"

The cyborg shrugged and smiled at Lieutenant Azeel. "Sometimes," he said, "a little distance can be important to a relationship."

"Aw," said Lt. Azeel, toying with one of her white dreadlocks, "that's how you take all the fun out of it, Gayem."

"And that's why I arranged for this little meeting, Lieutenant. Czerka found out about Grommik a while ago. We disabled his perimeter sensors and waited to see if anyone would come."

"You broke my moisture vaporators," the old farmer interrupted.

Leksende sighed. "Those too, yes. May I continue?"

Lt. Azeel debated interrupting again, just to see what reaction she'd get, but Aric glared at her and she rolled her eyes in acquiescence.

"Our honey pot seems to have caught some flies, and now I'm free to murder you and the old man together."

Azeel laughed. "Congratulations, you brought the fight to-"

She cut off as the holo flickered, and the image of Leksende was replaced by a young woman with implants around her left eye and a focused look on her face.

"Hey, this is- yes, you're definitely Havoc Squad. Great, good. Listen, I need a favour-"

The girl cut out, and Leksende appeared again, looking off to the side and yelling, "well, get it- Oh, good. I was in the middle of gloating. You see, while you've been scurrying around down there, I've found myself a nice little starship to park about two kilometer's over-"

He flickered out again, and the girl replaced him.

"Sorry about that. You've got to get out of there. There're droids dropping from orbit and-"

She flickered, and there was a bizarre superposition of her fierce eyes and button nose on the metal-filled face of Gayem Leksende for a second, before the girl was back in focus.

Her implant sparked slightly, and she winced. "Ow. Dammit. Don't tell my sister that happened. When you get out of there, contact me. I've got the coordinates of that Czerka base you're looking for, but I need you to get there fast-"

BOOM

The building shook again, and more explosions sounded, closer this time.

The girl crumpled to her knees, holding her head, which was sparking pretty badly now. "Oh, I hate these guys. I can throw off their targeting, but the droids are up to you. Trust me, if you can't deal with them, you won't be any help, anyway. Hurry!"

The larger explosions moved away, far enough that the world barely moved when they hit, but there was another small explosion from inside the building.

"Those sound like shaped charges, sir," M1-4X chimed in.

Lt. Azeel nodded and pulled her rifle from off her back. "Got that right. C'mon, Havoc, we're breaking out of here."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

The old man trembled. "But you should come with me. I have a shelter attached to the basement. We can-"

"Thanks," Lt. Azeel interrupted, "but I can do this in my sleep." She winked at the old man. "Maybe I will."

Then Havoc squad charged the oncoming droids.

Forex and Lt. Azeel were first, the fastest and the most durable together on the front lines, both roaring their war cries and, if Forex could smile, it would have matched Azeel's to the millimeter. Sergeants Aric and Elara stood back. Aric knelt by cover and took aim with his rifle. Elara was behind Forex, though she split off when they got close enough for her to take cover and assist with covering fire.

The droids weren't completely stupid. They aimed for Lt. Azeel, who looked like she barely wore enough armour to get by. The first one to look her way got a rifle bolt between the optics, courtesy of the cathar sergeant's sniper rifle. The others had the time to aim, not that it did any good. The lieutenant threw herself to the side as blaster bolts filled the air she'd been occupying. Then, with a flick of a switch and a pull of her rifle's trigger, she filled the air with an ion storm. Two more droids hit the ground, sizzling. Forex simply lumbered forth and unloaded with the heaviest weapons on Tatooine that weren't mounted on a ship.

Droid after droid fell, and Lt. Azeel found she could hear Elara's various warnings of, "droid, 35 degrees," and, "plasma cutter, keep Forex clear," over her own yelling and cheering.

They sent a lot of droids. It took minutes before they were all properly dismantled, though only because Forex and Elara insisted on checking the machines for self-destructs.

The rumbling in the distance was still going. Hopefully, it was just Lt. Azeel's pessimism making her think it was coming closer.

Probably not.

"Alright," she called, "everybody out. Double time."

They sprinted for the exit and out into the sand and twin suns of Tatooine. Their speeders were still in one piece. Apparently the droids weren't actually all that bright.

"IN," yelled the mirialan woman, "before that ship up there gets a lock on us!"

Elara and Azeel got onto their own speeders and took off, circling once as Aric and Forex got into their speeder. Once Forex was locked in, Aric gunned the engine and the squad followed their CO to the nearest canyon, and cover.

As usual, the women had to go a bit slower for Aric's speeder, though that was because calling it a speeder would be a gross misrepresentation. The model the sniper and droid used was more akin to a tank than the scout bikes the Lieutenant and medic used.

"Forex," Azeel said into her comm, "get that girl on comms so we can hear her. Aric, don't crash."

"Yes, sir," Aric growled, drowned out by Forex's similar shout.

In a few seconds, a light flickered in front of Forex and a voice sounded across the squad's link.

"Woah. Hey, big guy."

The voice sounded familiar, but Azeel couldn't seem to place it.

"You said you had information on the thing Czerka found," Azeel prompted.

"Right. Sending coordinates now. Listen, fair warning, this stuff is dangerous."

Azeel rolled her eyes and reoriented her speeder towards the Dune Sea. "Class seven blah-blah-blah. Planet level threat. We know."

"Lieutenant," Elara chided. "Please, any more information you have would be beneficial, as well as your name, for the record."

"For the record? Not sure that's a good idea. But I can tell you about the thing. You're not going to like it."

"We're used to that," Aric grumbled.

"Right. Havoc Squad. Well… hey, you've been to Taris. You know rakghouls, right?"

"Affirmative!" Forex seemed thrilled to be contributing. "All three organics of Havoc Squad have had experience combating the virulent monstrosities!"

Like most people, the kid had to take a second to adjust to Forex's… exuberance. "Right… Well, somebody made a tech version of that, I guess. As far as I can tell, they touch somebody, shock them, and the person becomes… something else. Seriously creepy. Don't let them touch you.

"Look, my sister and our partner are stuck in the Czerka base with these things. Please hurry. I'm begging you."

"At our top speed, it will take us..." Elara trailed off.

"Twenty-seven minutes to reach the coordinates," Forex finished.

"Oh, no..."

That voice was really familiar. Lt. Azeel swooped close to the tank to get a better look at the holo Forex was projecting. All she confirmed was that it was definitely a young girl with swept-back hair, and that Aric really didn't like it when she did that. She grinned at him, and he scowled back.

"I'm heading out there. Maybe I can buy them some time or something."

Wait a second… "Are those bandages?"

"Affirmative," Forex declared. "Our contact seems to have sustained injury in the valiant fight for the Republic!"

"I have to go. I can keep in touch by commlink."

Azeel turned her speeder sideways to get a last good look at the girl, nearly putting her head onto Forex's in the attempt. Aric yelled something unimportant.

The image winked out, but the lieutenant had seen all she needed to. Whoever the girl was, her entire left forearm was covered in bandages.

She pulled away and pulled ahead, beside Elara.

"That kid doesn't have armour or the use of her left arm," Azeel said. "I'm going ahead."

Then she throttled to full and pulled ahead, leaving the others in a cloud of dust.

"Lieutenant," said Elara, "there are three pages on not engaging Class Four or higher threats alone, and I will recite them to you if you don't at least let me catch up."

Azeel throttled down. At least until Elara caught up with her. Then she went to full and the pair raced to save a kid who probably had worse survival instincts than Azeel herself.

Of course, Azeel was the best, so she didn't need them.

She activated her comm again, calling her other contact.

"Fauler," she said, "we've got a lead. Sending you coordinates. Also, there's a ship in orbit with a grudge against us. If you've got anybody who can deal with that, Forex can't shoot that high."

"Wow," said agent Fauler, "old man Grommik really came through for us."

"Wasn't Grommik. Some kid had the coordinates for us, said her friends are already there, and they're in trouble. We're trying to get there in time to save them, if we can."

"Hm," hummed the spy, in that way spies do, "how can you be sure it isn't a trap?"

"The kid's implants were sparking," Aric Jorgan muttered.

"Which indicates illegal technologies," Elara interjected, "as well as a serious disregard for medical safety."

Aric grunted. "The kid's unusual, then. Maybe on the wrong side of the law. But those sparks looked like they hurt, and she was busy trying to pull our meat off the burner when they happened. I say we give her the benefit of the doubt."

"Sergeant Jorgan is correct! The pride and valour of those who serve the Republic is unmistakable!"

Azeel grinned. She loved that droid. "Elara," she asked, "your vote?"

"Ah, me, sir?"

"Yes, you. C'mon, Elara."

"I recommend the swiftest possible action to mitigate a Class Seven event, Lieutenant."

"Let's go save the day," Lt. Azeel translated. "You catch all that, Fauler?"

"Loud and clear, Lieutenant. Though, if you've got a name or image for this mysterious contact of yours, I'd be interested."

"At once, Agent Fauler!"

A few seconds passed, filled with nothing but the roaring of a pair of speeders and trying not to be blinded by the twin suns reflecting off sand dunes. Then, "that's funny."

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing, Lieutenant. I think. The kid just looks vaguely familiar. Probably just my imagination. I'd remember if something were wrong."

Azeel nodded and hummed a vague reply.

The squad continued on in silence for another ten minutes before Azeel spotted something in the distance. She turned towards it, beckoning for Elara to follow, and the shape in the dunes started to take shape. It was a building, almost completely covered by sand. Azeel fished out her datapad and checked it.

"That's it," she declared. "Aric, Forex, catch up. We're at the coordinates."

"We look forward to joining you, Lieutenant!"

Azeel grinned.

Then her grin dropped.

"Ah, hells."

There were three speeders parked at the base entrance. Two for the people trapped inside, and one for...

The kid was already there.

"Elara, double time!"

"Yes, sir!"

Lt. Azeel slowed her speeder down some. Not much. Then she leapt off the machine and into the sand, sliding twenty meters, then rolling and shifting into a run, rifle at the ready. The sand lead cleanly into a ramp entering the building. There were corpses scattered around, but the Lieutenant didn't have time to get a good look.

"Ramp entrance. No active hostiles."

She sprinted down the ramp and vaulted off a barricade at the bottom, turning the corner in mid-air. In front of her was a massive room, empty except for sand, barricades, and more corpses.

"First room, clear. Looking for a way further in."

There it was. An elevator shaft, maybe ten meters by ten meters, with the platform already down below.

"Got it. Rappelling down."

"Lieutenant, regulation 17ii, subsection A states that an unidentified object of Class Four or-"

"Fine, fine, I'll wait!" Azeel sighed and punched the wall idly, then turned to point her gun at the rest of the room. Still just corpses. One right at her feet looked strange, like a person with all the veins and arteries standing out against its skin, except the blood vessels looked like black circuitry.

The kid had been right, at least. Whatever it was, it definitely looked like infectious tech.

It gave Azeel the creeps. Suddenly, a part of her really didn't want to go further into the building.

Elara came around the corner at a sprint. Triple-time, at least. Non-regulation.

Azeel grinned.

"Hurry up, Elara," she called. "Can't save the day without getting our hands dirty!"

Elara definitely scowled at her through her helmet. She came to a stop a meter from the lieutenant and looked at the elevator shaft.

"It would have been prudent to call the elevator. Sir."

"Too slow." Azeel fired a piton into the shaft ceiling and jumped down, comming back, "we can use it on the way up."

That was definitely the sound of grinding teeth.

Elara hit the ground a couple seconds behind her.

"Hells."

Elara followed Azeel's line of sight. She didn't have to look hard. There were bodies everywhere down here. Everywhere. How were there even this many people to die in this facility?

Then the two of them heard blasterfire ahead, and they were off running.

"Audio contact. Investigating."

Azeel didn't waste her breath. Then she heard, "dammit, dammit, dammit!"

The girl came around the far corner, all but running backwards. She shot off the wheel of a cart holding a load of rocks, and the whole thing toppled behind her, and she kept running.

Then came the other things.

"Contact," Azeel screamed, "hard contact!"

The girl turned her head to see them, and tripped on one of the bodies on the floor.

The other things were close, swarming, spilling around the corner and piling over the rocks the girl had dropped across the hallway.

"Cover me!"

"I'm on it, sir!"

Lieutenant Azeel sprinted forward. The girl was crawling backwards, trying to stand up and shoot at the same time, both with just one hand. "Dammit!" She screamed and her implant sparked, or her implant sparked and she screamed. No way to be sure. "There's nothing there!"

The first few things went down to precision fire, burst shots from Sergeant Dorne. They were still too close. Azeel made it to the girl with two meters to spare.

A rifle like those issued to Havoc squad was usually a two-handed affair, especially if one was planning on being even remotely safe.

Azeel wasn't. She grabbed the girl with one hand and pulled her bodily up to her feet, pointing her rifle at the same time.

Grenade after grenade launched into the crowd of things, emptying Azeel's magazine and filling the corridor with a resounding crescendo of noise. It didn't matter. There were more coming, and there was running to be done. Even Azeel would admit that.

"What's going on down there?"

There was no time to answer Aric. There wasn't even time to think about what to do next, even if Azeel were in the habit. The girl caught her stride and started running alongside, and Elara turned and joined them. Together, the dodged bodies and rocks, turning the corner and practically diving onto the elevator.

Azeel slammed the up button so hard it cracked, but the platform rose nonetheless. Behind them, the things kept coming, making no noise but the sound of their feet, but so many of them that they filled the corridor shoulder to shoulder.

The elevator left the things behind.

"DAMMIT!"

"Hey, kid," Azeel put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry. There was nothing you could do."

The girl didn't yell or shrug her off. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair – dreadlocks, like Azeel's, but swept back – then shook her head. "There's plenty we can do. We just need a plan to save them."

"The… things?"

"No, my partners."

Azeel raised an eyebrow skeptically. It was such an unbelievable thing to say, she didn't know how else to respond. "You said they were dead."

"No, I didn't."

"You said, 'there's nothing there'."

The girl tapped her implant, then winced. The skin around it was clearly burned. "I meant in here. In the… tech-ghouls. I was trying to get inside. I mean, it's not like they have a Holonet frequency, but they're definitely on a network. They all respond at the same time."

Elara moved over to the girl and, with a muttered, "hold still," started administering kolto to the burns around the implant.

Azeel held up her rifle. "We're not going back down there. Even if I hadn't just used up an entire canister of grenades, your friends are dead. There's no way they-"

"They're alive," the girl said with a stubborn calm.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I'm looking through my sister's helmet-cam right now."

The girl met the lieutenant's gaze firmly, unflinching. There was a light in those brown eyes, like sunlight shining off of garden soil. They glared straight into Azeel's red ones. Whoever this kid was, she'd seen a lot scarier things than the leader of Havoc squad in her time. She'd probably stared those right in the face, too.

"That's not enough, Sparks," Azeel said eventually. The girl winced. "I've fought across the galaxy, and if there's a chance those things are as dangerous as you say-"

"There won't be more."

Azeel paused. "What?"

"We drew most of them away from my sister. At least for a minute. She destroyed the replicators."

Elara and Azeel shared a look. "Replicators?"

Sparks nodded.

"You said they reproduced by touching people."

Sparks hesitated, then nodded again. "And the replicators. I didn't know about them until I saw Ma- my sister destroy them."

"Sir, we're ETA three minutes. What's the situation in there?"

Azeel keyed her comm. "We're pulling out, Aric. Get Fauler to call in an or-"

"No." Azeel cut off, not because of Sparks' interruption, but because her commlink had filled with static. The girl's eyes were watering and her eyelids were flickering, and she pushed Elara away and stood up, turning slightly away, as if to talk to the wall. "C'mon, come on. Hey, lady. It's us. The ones you hired to take care of the thing you set free... Yeah. You got my partners trapped with a bunch of monsters, and you're going to come help deal with it... I don't care if they're the Sons of the Emperor, the problem's here. There's some sort of device… No, we can deal with it, we just need a hand, like a hand with a lightsaber… No, you- Dammit!"

Sparks took a deep breath. Her eyes were still flickering and she was leaning on the wall. Havoc squad's comms were still down, but that was fine for a bit, even if it was the kid doing it. Hopefully it was the kid and not the things below.

"Uncle Sherkan," Sparks said, voice distant. "I can still- Dammit, uncle. Let me-" Her implants sparked again, and she cried out in pain, falling to her knees. "No. I-"

"Kid," Azeel yelled, "stop!"

The kid's head was sparking fiercely, and Azeel was pretty sure it was going to start smoking in a second. Elara was spraying her with kolto. Azeel snapped her fingers in front of the kid's eyes, but they just kept flickering.

"Administering sedative, sir."

Sparks must have heard that, because her hand shot out and smacked the med-gun out of Elara's hand. It clattered on the elevator platform.

That seemed to snap Sparks out of it. Her implant stopped sparking, even if her eyes kept flickering slowly. Her eyes weren't watering anymore. Now she was crying.

Azeel held the girl's head and watched the hope drain from her eyes. Something occurred to her.

"That was everybody, wasn't it?"

Sparks nodded.

Everybody. The kid had just called in every chip she had, and it amounted to a group of strangers, the Jedi who'd hired her, and an uncle who wouldn't even take her call.

Hells.

Then the kid wiped her eyes, sniffed, and stood up, hefting her pistol. The static in Azeel's comm cleared.

"Alright. Go. I've got, what? Forty minutes before anybody can get a ship in place? I'll figure something out."

"You're not staying here."

"It'll be fine. I'll figure something out."

"Elara? Sedate her."

Sparks spun and pointed her blaster at Elara, who raised her hands. Azeel, however, pointed her rifle at the girl.

"Kid, you just drew a blaster on a member of Havoc squad. You're in more trouble than your friends downstairs."

"I'm about to watch my sister die through her own eyes. I'll take my chances."

Azeel's heart went cold.

The sound of metal on metal behind her signaled the arrival of the other two members of Havoc squad.

"Lieutenant," said Aric, "care to explain what's going on?"

Azeel imagined the cathar was taking in the whole scene almost casually, rifle trained on Sparks and ready to thread the needle between Azeel and Elara, if necessary. Sparks wouldn't see it coming until it was too late.

"Kid," Azeel said slowly, "put the blaster down, and we can talk. You don't want to be on the wrong side of Havoc squad."

"I'm already on the wrong side of Havoc squad. You're about to drop a bomb on my sister." The calmness in the kid's voice unnerved Azeel. She wasn't vaguely annoyed like Aric or rigidly controlled like Elara when they got it in their heads to be matter-of-fact. This girl just seemed resigned.

"Not necessarily," Azeel said. "Aric, did you call in the strike yet?"

"Strike? No, sir."

"Call it in then. Just tell them to wait on my mark."

Sparks glanced at Azeel and, in that moment, her aim shifted.

Lt. Azeel reached out and disarmed the girl before she had any idea what had happened. It actually took a second for Sparks to realize her hand was empty, and the lieutenant was holding her blaster.

"What-"

"You called in Havoc squad, Sparks. Don't tell me you didn't know what you'd be getting."

Elara moved to complete her last order.

"Wait!" Sparks leapt back holding up both arms, bandaged and whole, to ward off the blonde medic. "Please! I can help you."

Elara grabbed the girl's arm.

"I don't want her to die alone!"

With a quick movement, the medic spun Sparks around and pushed her against the wall, arm pressed firmly into the small of her back.

"You're going to watch your sister die, through her own eyes, so she doesn't die alone?"

Elara had the med-gun pressed against Mako's neck, but she waited. She was polite like that.

"Everybody I've ever loved died while I was gone. If you're going to kill her, please at least let me be there for her."

"Sir."

Lt. Azeel glanced back to see Sergeant Jorgan standing a ways behind her, listening.

"Aric?"

"Agent Fauler has called in a bombing run. We'll get an ETA once a squadron gets assigned."

He said it, but he shifted uncomfortably afterwards.

"And?"

Aric glared and his ears flicked slightly. "Sir, there's no need to sedate the girl... I can supervise her."

Lt. Azeel stopped, turned, and faced her sergeant directly. He met her gaze steadily, without any hint of what he was thinking.

"Sergeant," Azeel said slowly, "there are an unknown, significant number of hostiles in the facility below us."

The man's ear's twitched. "Sir."

"They, whatever created them, or some other tech down there, is or are registered as a Class Seven, planet-killing phenomenon."

"Sir."

"Those things took less than two minutes to chase half of Havoc Squad out of their territory, and have trapped two other individuals inside with them."

"Sir."

"And, quite frankly, they scare me."

This time, Aric's answer was slower. His stare never wavered, but he hesitated before repeating, in the same matter-of-fact tone as before, "sir."

Lieutenant Azeel threw her hands into the air. "Fine! Elara, let the kid go and remand her to Aric's custody. Forex, get the tank."

"Wh-what?"

"Shut up, kid, I'm talking. Elara, with me. We're stocking up. Aric, start figuring out what we'll want. These things aren't durable, but they pack the place from wall to wall and you don't want them touching you. Kid, here's your gun back. Don't shoot anyone, and get on the line with your friends and tell them they're saved. Everybody got it?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"What?"

"Good."

It didn't take long for Havoc squad to gather its things and move the tank into the facility. The best of the best didn't lose time preparing.

Azeel rode in the tank on the way back, mostly for the experience. There weren't many people in the galaxy who got to ride in a tank, even if it was open-top. It also gave her the chance to focus on reloading and recharging her rifle. There was no doubt in her mind that the things down there would make them work for every meter.

"...it tight, and we'll be there soon."

"Wrong," Azeel called ahead.

The girl looked up and glared. "You're taking me with you. You can't afford to leave Sergeant Jorgan behind. He's your marksman."

"Not what I meant," Azeel said, hopping off the tank and ushering the squad onto the elevator. "We need your friends to do as much damage as possible while we drag the attention our way. You said they had replicators. If there're any more, we need them gone. If there's anything else in there, we need to know about it. If they clear all that out, I wouldn't say no to hitting those things from both sides. You tell your sister that."

Sparks nodded, and her eyes started flickering again. "Hey, uh..." She paused, glancing at Lieutenant Azeel, then looking at Sergeant Jorgan. "...sis. We've got a plan. Sort of. If there's any more of those replicators and things, we need you to take them out. And… well, yes… No! Gault, make sure she doesn't! I'm serious! ...well, I'll shoot you, too! ...heh. Okay... Good... Yes, I'll tell you when… I lo- I'll see you soon, sis."

Her eyes went back to normal, and Azeel punched the elevator button.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, kid. Thank Aric. I'd as soon bomb the place." The elevator passed the ceiling of the basement floor. In the room below, wall to wall to wall, were those things. "Havoc squad, bomb the place!"

The noise was as incredible as it was glorious.

* * *

"Just sit tight, and we'll be down there," Mako said, before cutting off the link.

"Mako," Aqura said. "Mako! Osik! We have to get to her before she does something stupid."

"Family troubles," Gault sighed. "You know, I feel like you could have warned me you had no sense of perspective before I joined up."

The mandalorian glared at her devaronian partner. He was a complainer.

Then she shot the closest tech-ghoul in the face. At a couple of meters' distance, the shot scorched it pretty well, and it fell from the makeshift ramp its brethren had made back to the ground floor of the facility.

"Reload," she said, handing the gun to Gault. He let go of her and took the pistol, replacing it with another one for her to shoot with. It was a system they'd worked out over the last half an hour or so. After all, she couldn't very well reload one-handed.

That was the downside of her solution to the tech-ghoul problem. When they'd started to cover the floor of the cavern, she'd grabbed Gault and launched them up to the supports with her jet-pack. Now she was stuck holding on with one hydraulically-locked arm and shooting with the other, while Gault held on for dear life.

His life must be very dear to him, because he'd been holding on for quite a while.

Aqura shot another tech-ghoul and looked around again for something to solve this problem with. It had taken the beasties a while, but they'd managed to form a pyramid up to her, and it was becoming… worrisome.

"Hey, Gault," she asked, holding up her broken bracer to him, "do you-"

"Hey, uh..." Mako again. "Sis. We've got a plan. Sort of. If there's any more of those replicators and things, we need you to take them out. And..."

"And get to you, if possible," Aqura supplied.

Gault looked at her like she was crazy.

"Well, yes."

"Kandosii. I think we can make it if Gault fishes my last micro-missile out of my bracer. Then we can drop down and-"

"No! Gault, make sure she doesn't!"

"Right."

"I'm serious."

"You know she'll shoot me, right?"

"Well, I'll shoot you, too!"

"We can both shoot him."

"Hey!"

"Heh. Okay."

"Now, wait a second!"

Aqura considered for a second, staring into the blue-lit eyes of one of the tech-ghouls reaching for her. She shot it. "Mako, don't worry. If you're coming, I'll wait until your friends draw their attention again."

"Good."

"You want to send me a heads-up?" It might make the slicer feel better, even if it wouldn't matter. These things all reacted to everything at the same time, so Aqura and Gault would know exactly when things got interesting over on Mako's side.

Those friends she'd found better keep her safe.

"Yes, I'll tell you when."

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, vod'ika."

"I lo-" Mako hesitated. That was alright. Aqura would keep telling her until she could say it back. "I'll see you soon, sis."

Well. That was almost as good.

"You wouldn't really shoot me, would you?" Gault asked.

Aqura almost managed a shrug, but with the hydraulics in her suit locked up, she barely shifted one shoulder. "I'll tell you when we get out of here," she said. "See how much frustration I have to work out."

"That's reassuring."

The tech-ghouls shifted as one, the closest one turning directly away and running down the pyramid at the shamble it called full speed.

Mako's voice called something over the link, but it was lost in the sound of explosions and blasterfire.

Manda, had they brought a tank? Aqura could hear the rumbling from here.

For things that moves so slowly, the tech-ghouls cleared the room surprisingly fast. They all moved together, never getting in one another's way, filtering out of the room's doorway faster than any organic crowd Aqura had ever seen.

"Gault," Aqura snapped, "do you see any more replicators?"

"If I say yes, are we going to go towards them?"

"Yes. Because if we don't, they're going to make another pyramid and get up here, anyway. How many ammo packs do you have left?"

Gault sighed dramatically. "There are two behind you. I've been staring at them for half an hour. Remind me why I let you talk me into this?"

"The other option was me shooting you on the spot."

"Oh, right."

Aqura nodded, satisfied. "Do you have a good grip?"

"I'm hanging on for dear life," the scoundrel grumbled, "of course I do."

"Good," Aqura told him, and started swinging her legs forward and back. "Because if you shift your weight while I'm doing this, you're going to get crushed, then I'm going to get turned into a tech-ghoul."

Then she reached the end of a swing and let her hydraulics loose.

She flew backwards from her perch, left arm holding Gault into her stomach and right arm dangling uselessly, gone to sleep twenty minutes past.

It was hard to get control of her fall with her weight so chaotic. Gault couldn't help but move a little, and without all four limbs free, she was down to shifting the weight in her legs to make sure she was facing the right way up.

However far down it was to the cavern floor, it would need to be enough.

When Aqura judged it was the right moment, she activated her jetpack.

Gault almost slipped, but she held him firm, almost crushing him against her. The jets roared for a burst, stopped for barely an instant, then roared again.

Gault's feet touched down first, then Aqura hit the ground a fraction of a second later. They tumbled, rolling in separate directions down the slope of the cavern floor.

Aqura managed to get her feet under her again, just for a second, and launched herself into the air again. Then, with just a tap of her jetpacks, she was back on balance.

Gault, however, was not, and that was going to be a problem when he hit the bottom of the hill. He'd curled up into a ball, so he probably wasn't going to get injured, but that wasn't going to save him from the tech-ghouls being created by the replicators he was heading for.

Aqura tried to spin in mid-air, but without her right arm, she didn't have the leverage for it. She had to land, but the distance-

"Gault! Watch out!"

She hit the ground smoothly and turned, already running. There'd been three tech-ghouls when she'd looked before. Now there were five. She shot the closest one and leapt over the other, but the ones at the replicators, near Gault-

"Gault!"

Gault hit the incline and kept rolling towards the replicators, towards the three tech-ghouls there. One of them was shambling straight for him. Aqura did the best she could, firing as she ran, but she was using her off-hand and running, there was no way, especially while trying not to hit Gault himself.

A meter from the creature, Gault's roll switched direction, and he rolled past it. He still hit the wall beside the replicator, but he had that extra second.

It was all Aqura needed. She leapt into the air again, steadied her aim as best she could, and shot the one closest to Gault. Then beskar boots hit the metal platform the replicators stood on, and she slid, screeching metal-on-metal, towards the other tech-ghoul, shooting the whole way.

Two of the three shots hit, and it fell, hitting the ground as she slid into it.

She felt fine. Lots of pins and needles in her right arm, but fine. That meant it hadn't turned her into one of them, so that was a plus.

A blaster shot rang out, then there was a thud behind her.

Gault grinned. On the floor behind Aqura lay the fifth tech-ghoul, dead.

"You missed one," the devaronian teased.

Aqura nodded. "Kandosii."

Back on the hill was the one tech-ghoul she'd leapt over, and coming out of the replicators were two more. She shot all three, then holstered her blaster and gave Gault a hand up.

"Help me out?" she asked. "I can't really feel my right arm, and I don't think our blaster pistols are going to break these things. I really need that last missile."

"Right, right," Gault said, getting to work. His fingers glided over the crack in the beskar and pried lightly at the casing of her bracer's missile-launcher. "You couldn't ask for a hand at a better time or, you know, not break the launcher in the first place?"

"I broke it fighting you, mir'sheb," Aqura said. "Now hurry, I'm not sure how long it takes those things to make new ones."

Gault hurried. He was unsurprisingly quick-fingered for an unscrupulous con-man, and he had the casing open in a few seconds.

"Good," Aqura said, but Gault didn't need encouragement or instructions. He tossed the missile between the two replicators and pushed Aqura away. Once they'd made it to the edge of the platform, he turned, fired once, and the missile detonated, taking the two replicators with it.

Gault breathed a sigh of relief, then stiffened and looked at Aqura. They both turned and looked back to the middle of the cavern, the pyramid there still melting as tech-ghouls streamed out of the cavern.

"Do we have to?"

"My sister's on the other side of that horde, Gault. What do you think?"

Gault nodded. "I predict this is going to go really poorly. Hey, if you die, can I have the armour? I know a guy on-"

He cut off as Aqura handed him her blaster.

"Uh, am I missing something here?"

Aqura turned and waled along the platform until she reached the part where it separated from the cavern floor. "We have three clips and two guns. That's not going to make much difference with these things." Walking up to one of the supports, she shook out her right arm, grabbed the metal strut, and kicked hard, three times. It bent, groaned, and snapped, coming off in her hands.

The Mandalorian raised her makeshift spear and looked at the humanoid monsters, all going after her sister. "You can cover me."

* * *

"Off! Off the tank, now!"

Aric leapt and Forex's seat ejected him. Less than a second later, a jolt of electricity ran through the machine and circuits seemed to grow up along its surface, burrowing through like worms and reappearing throughout its chassis.

The other things swarmed around it as it turned to face Havoc Squad.

"AW, HELLS," Azeel yelled over the explosions. "Everyone back! Forex-"

"Voice command override: 732-Aurek-Usk-5-Orenth, Seneschal."

The tank exploded, throwing back Havoc squad and obliterating every one of those things near it.

"Apologies, sir," said Elara. "Standard operating procedure-"

"Aren't you supposed to ask before you do that?"

"Er… yes, sir."

Azeel grinned and hefted her gun. "Good job." The rest of the squad formed up with her.

Then some of the munitions in the tank cooked off, killing plenty more of the things.

"Looks like that spooked them," growled Aric.

It was true. The things did seem to be hesitating, some even turning to run.

"No. My sister's getting their attention- Is that a spear?"

"You heard her, Havoc squad. We just got a flanking bonus!"

Without another word, the squad charged, Azeel and Forex leading the way. They prioritized the targets actually facing their direction. With only half the targets attacking them and the swarm thinned by the dual explosions of the tank and their extra munitions, they made quick progress.

It very quickly reached the point where Lieutenant Azeel's only complaint was that she couldn't carry a weapon anywhere near the size of Forex's.

A small explosion and the sound of the heavy weapons droid laughing prompted Azeel to fire a few grenades, if only to feel a little more useful.

"Sir, I am in danger of running out of targets!"

"You mean us organics finally have some breathing room! Quit complaining and keep shooting! I don't want a single one of these things left alive!"

"With pleasure, sir!"

Within minutes, the room was nearly clear.

"Uh, Lieutenant?"

Azeel glanced at the girl, both of them still picking their targets.

"About my sister..."

Azeel nodded. "You're right. Havoc squad! We've still got a couple nerfs to herd. Form up and let's get in and out so I can call in that orbital strike."

"Sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Wait-"

Azeel ran, and Havoc squad ran with her. Even Forex lumbered along at a respectable pace, taking chunks out of the rock floor with each step. Few of the things got in their way, scattered and confused as they were, and Havoc put holes through any that so much as looked their way. The kid mostly just kept up.

"There!" Azeel pointed to a massive entrance into another room, where a crowd of the things jostles for position. As she pointed, something flew up over the crowd and landed in front of Havoc, rolling to a stop at Elara's feet.

Good thing it was Elara, because Azeel would have made some very undignified sounds at the sight of a disembodied head with glowing eyes landing at her feet.

Elara didn't even comment on it.

Now that the shooting had died down, Azeel could hear a staccato beat coming from the crowd, punctuated infrequently by the sound of a blaster pistol firing.

Sparks started shooting into the crowd of things, and Havoc followed suit. They picked their targets carefully. Somewhere in that crowd was at least one friendly, and they'd put a lot of effort into getting them out safely.

Was that gold? It looked like gold… armour? It was hard to get a good view through the things. As the crowd cleared, however, Azeel caught glimpses of two figures, one the deep red of a Sith, the other a familiar gold.

Then she recognized what she was looking at.

"Hold!"

Havoc squad ceased firing in unison. The group of them watched as a devaronian male with a blaster pistol assisted AQURA "MANDOKARLA" - who was wielding a spear – in killing the rest of those things.

After the Mandalorian killed the last two in a series of moves Azeel was certain weren't technically possible in heavy armour, she stopped and looked around to see all of Havoc squad aiming their guns at her.

"Wait!"

Sparks ran out between Havoc squad and, Azeel realized, her two partners.

Something clicked. The memory of deafening metal on metal, a voice saying, "I'm really sorry about this." Of somebody slicing into Havoc squad's secure frequency as if 'firewall' was nothing more than a misunderstanding of how architecture functioned.

"Please don't shoot each other! There's way more important things right now."

"Sir?"

Azeel glared at the Mandalorian, who was pointing her makeshift spear at them like it would do anything.

Instead of watching the gold-armoured mercenary, however, her eyes were dragged to the last of the things. After the confusion of being attacked from both sides, they seemed more than happy to finally have one group to focus on.

"We've got other scum to deal with," she growled, turning her rifle on the oncoming creatures. "Keep alert, Havoc. We don't want to get shot in the back."

She shot the closest thing, ignoring the synthesized voice that yelled something at her about backstabbing.

There weren't many of the creatures left, perhaps thirty to fifty. It was enough for Sparks to rejoin her partners and the three of them… well, they did alright, considering. They weren't Havoc squad, but they weren't bad. Somewhere halfway through the fight, the lieutenant started wishing she'd been counting kills.

Not that there was any way a woman with a spear had gotten anywhere close to her count.

It was just… some of those moves had been very impressive.

"Right. I think that's that."

Azeel turned to glare at the Mandalorian. "You're joking. You left more in the room you were in."

"No, I didn't."

Sparks started to look nervous.

"Yes, you-"

"Sir. Might I suggest we check?"

Lieutenant Azeel breathed in through her nose and blew out through closed lips, then took a swipe at the dreadlock that always fell between her eyes. "Fine."

Havoc squad moved towards the last uncleared room. Sparks held out a hand in front of Mandokarla, and the devaronian actually shied away from them. Azeel shook her head and waved forwards.

"I'm not dealing with you behind us and them in front. You go first."

The Mandalorian stared at them, and Azeel could feel her glaring.

"Oh, for- They saved your lives, you idiot. Let's just go!" Sparks stepped aside and started pushing her… sister… in front of Havoc squad.

"Our new acquaintances seem to be… unusual allies of the Republic," Forex said with less than his usual enthusiasm.

"Just be ready for when they drop a freighter on us." Azeel snapped her hand forward, urging the squad to follow the trio.

"Er- could you repeat that, sir?"

"No."

Now both she and Aric were glaring, reminded of their last encounter with 'Mandokarla'. Elara hadn't been there, but she'd certainly treated the aftermath.

At least one, probably all three, of these people they'd just rescued would be taken into custody as soon as Azeel confirmed this Class Seven site was shut down, wrapped up, and scorched off the surface of the planet.

Her eyes scanned the room, and she shivered.

But… there was nothing here.

"Hey, lieutenant," the girl said tentatively, "I don't see anything in here."

Stepping over corpses became climbing, but Azeel kept her eyes on the room. "There's something in here, Sparks. I know it."

The Mandalorian looked at her sister. "She calls you Sparks."

Sparks went red.

Mandokarla laughed. "Did you introduce yourself as Sparks?"

"No!"

"Ha! That's even better! What'd you do, stop all comm traffic on Tatooine?"

Azeel opened her mouth to tell them to shut up, but a voice behind her interrupted.

"No, I believe she was the one preventing us from blasting your friends from orbit," said Gayem Leksende, Czerka lackey.

Lt. Azeel spun, rifle ready, to see at least twenty beings in Czerka green, all with guns trained on Havoc squad and company. Guns that looked like they'd cost Czerka a hefty credit.

"Osik. Friends of yours, Republic?"

"Just some guy who won't take no for an answer, Karla."

Leksende, however, ignored them. He walked across the room, ignoring every over-engineered gun Havoc and his men were carrying.

"Marvelous. Absolutely marvelous."

"What, a box?"

Azeel couldn't help it. She turned from the mercenaries facing her, and she saw it.

It was a box, but it was a box like the ZR-57 bomb had been a cylinder. The feeling the lieutenant had been getting, the sense of danger and wrongness she'd though must be more of those tings, was coming from a pyramidal box with vague etchings inscribed across its surface. The box floated before Leksende, who was staring at it in adoration.

"We could never have excavated this place without your help. Oh, we knew where the base was, but getting inside? Ghastly work."

"I'm going to kill him. Can I kill him?"

"Sis, please don't upset the thirty armed gunmen."

"We can take them."

"You have a spear made of ancient ruin."

"Ah-HEM," Leksende coughed meaningfully. "Lieutenant, wouldn't you like to come see for yourself? After all, it was your hard work that brought us here."

Azeel didn't move a millimeter. She didn't want to be any closer to that box, or to the metal man scanning it.

"Lieutenant," Aric growled, "we're surrounded."

That was obv-

Wait.

There were twenty men forming a semi-circle around Havoc squad, with the Mandalorian and her partners five meters further into the room, and Leksende with only one guard, further out across the room.

Azeel nodded and took Aric's suggestion, moving to a flanking position on their enemy.

Leksende gave her a smile that stopped halfway up his cheek, where skin met metal. "Wonderful. I find the secrets of the universe become so much more tantalizing with a beautiful woman by-"

"Come to me. Come closer, until we are one."

The box spoke.

The cavern rumbled, and Azeel stumbled into the cyborg psycho. She didn't get the chance to capitalize on it. The rumbling grew more and more powerful, and electricity ran through the machine holding the box, arcing visibly through the air, through the box, and back into the machine. One of the metal supports fell from the roof with a screaming clang, and an avalanche of boulders fell after, nearly crushing Sparks and the other two.

Then a holographic figure appeared before the box. It was no alien Azeel had ever seen, humanoid, but with eyes on stalks at the height of its mouth.

The rumbling began to die down, and it opened its mouth to speak.

"Forex, shut down!"

"Sir! Good luck, sir!"

There was a flash from Forex, and an EMP so powerful that Azeel felt her hair stand on end. For the second time that minute, electricity arced through the machine holding the box.

The Czerka personnel all raised their guns. Leksende's guard aimed and pulled the trigger on her rifle.

Nothing happened.

Azeel grinned and punched her in the face.

There was the sound of blasterfire from across the room. Probably Sparks and her devaronian friend. They, at least, had guns that wouldn't fry under an EMP.

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!"

Was that Sparks?

Lieutenant Azeel looked up from punching the guard into the dirt.

Straight into a blaster pistol.

Geyem Leksende's implants were sparking, his hair smoked, but his face held a rictus of his half-grin.

"Chemical pain inhibitors. Czerka's finest. It's a shame it had to end this way, Lieutenant. You would have been a great asset."

The mirialan soldier focused. Maybe, just maybe, she could move fast enough.

Leksende's hand tightened on the trigger.

And a lance of metal sprouted from his chest.

The metal man's eyes went wide, and he looked down. He brought his hands to the tip of the spear, following it to where it exited his chest, right below the sternum.

"It… doesn't even hurt."

Then he fell to the ground, dead.

Havoc squad was faring well, except for Forex, who was deactivated. Both sergeants had moved into hand-to-hand with Czerka, and the company mercenaries clearly hadn't been trained for it.

Sparks was on the ground, her devaronian partner holding her up with one hand and shooting with the other. She looked hurt, bad.

Mandokarla had waded into the crowd of Czerka, and what she was doing wasn't important.

Azeel took Leksende's blaster pistol and turned to face the box. Then she started firing.

Ten shots. Twenty. Thirty. More and more until the trigger clicked silent and the feeling of foreboding was gone. The box fell to the floor, smoking and blackened but no longer sparking or… whatever it had done.

She threw the blaster at the box for good measure, then kicked Leksende's body, just to make herself feel better.

Then she ran to help Sparks. For all that the kid had tricked them, she'd still helped stop a Class Seven incident, and gotten fried for her troubles.

The devaronian looked up at Lt. Azeel as she ran towards them, and he waved her away. "No, no. Go help them! Stars, you're as bad as her."

Azeel paused, but the man was fitting a kolto vial into a med-gun, so there was nothing more she could do. She turned and charged into the group of mercenaries.

It was fun. Dealing with the box had taken the edge off, and the last dozen bad guys were nothing more than a chance to blow off steam. She punched one in the face-tendrils and kicked another between the legs before one of them even tried to hit her back. She dodged, obviously, and returned with a much better-aimed punch.

"Five!"

"Sir, really!"

"Rngh. Four."

A gold-plated arm came out of nowhere and knocked a rodian's mouth all floppy. "Five," said the Mandalorian. "And the box doesn't count."

Six. "Class Seven doomsday weapon, it counts!" Seven.

Six for the Mandalorian. She was moving really slowly, for some reason. Seven eight nine. But that was a frakking great shoulder-check and now Azeel wanted a jet-pack.

By the time the fight was over, Azeel's score was eleven, which only matched Mandokarla's. Aric had six, and Elara refused to say, but simple math said she'd gotten five.

"How is she?"

"She's unconscious. I don't know, I'm not a doctor. Hey, maybe we should get her a helmet?"

The devaronian and Mandalorian were leaning over their friend.

"I may be able to help your friend."

Elara was already standing by, ready to help the girl. The two ushered her closer to their friend without any complaint, Mandokarla whispering quiet concern the whole time.

"She lied to us."

Azeel nodded with the scowling sergeant beside her. He was sporting a sore jaw and a growing grudge.

"Yeah. She did."

Elara was checking the girl's eyes and running a hand along her implants, asking medical questions the whole time. Neither of the two seemed able to answer them well.

"It looks like she's paying for it, though," Azeel concluded.

Aric grunted.

"You know she was telling the truth about her sister, though?"

The cathar gave her a look that asked a lot more questions than Azeel was comfortable with. She looked away. Eventually, he just grunted again.

Elara finished up whatever she was doing and handed Mandokarla a few of her supplies. Before the soldier stood up, she was grabbed by the hand. Even in synthesized Mandalorian, it was easy to hear the thanks in Mandokarla's voice.

Elara walked over to her two squadmates.

"Sir."

"What's wrong, Elara?"

"We need to let them go."

"What?"

"Absolutely not!"

Azeel held out a hand in front of Aric. "What he means is, why?"

Elara stepped closer and spoke quietly. "Mako's implants are… illegally extensive. With the damage the EMP caused, she runs the risk of brain injury or death if she doesn't receive full medical treatment. Sir, with all due respect, we don't have the personnel to secure M1-4X, rush Mako to medical treatment, and ensure her associates are properly detained."

"How long until Forex reactivates?"

"Technically, sir, we could reactivate him now. However! Wait. Even with your tendency towards disregarding regulations, I wouldn't recommend it. It will take hours before we can be sure that reactivating M1-4X won't, well, kill him. Too long for Mako."

"So we're just supposed to let the Mandalorian and her people leave?"

Azeel looked between Elara, who looked desperate, and Aric, who looked enraged, but conflicted.

She felt the same way. Mandokarla had saved her life once, then tried to kill her. Now Azeel had saved the Mandalorian's life, possibly at the cost of her sister's.

And, through it all, Mandokarla was a war criminal.

"Hells!" Azeel slammed a fist against Aric's chestplate, which definitely hurt her hand more than it even surprised him. She stomped forward to stand over the ragtag trio. "Get out of here! If I ever see you again, you're still under arrest."

Mandokarla pushed herself up to her feet and the devaronian picked up Sparks. "Hurry," the Mandalorian ordered, pointing, and her partner started towards the cave entrance. Mandokarla herself stopped in front of Azeel and said something in Mandalorian that the lieutenant didn't even pretend to understand. Then she ran after her comrades in a strange, jerky sprint.

Lt. Azeel watched them go. Her two sergeants stood at her shoulders.

"I believe you did the right thing, sir."

"Hrn."

Azeel shrugged. "Of course I did. We'll track them down some other time. We're still Havoc squad, after all."

No Mandalorian could outfight Azeel. No matter what her score.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is beneath us."

The rest of Havoc Squad turned to look at their Lieutenant.

"Standard strategic target elimination." Aric shrugged, then stopped to scan the area through his rifle's scope. He wasn't going to find anything. Havoc Squad had cleared the area of Thul and Ulgo soldiers a minute past, leaving a field of corpses behind them and pristine green fields and quaint stone bridges over idyllic blue streams ahead. "This is exactly what spec ops is for."

And across the last bridge ahead, the castle of the man they were assigned to kill.

"This is exactly what other spec ops is for," Lt. Azeel grumbled. "We're Havoc Squad. The best of the best. How did we get stuck going after some old guy pretending to be a king?"

Aric and Elara exchanged a dry look. It was Aric who spoke, however.

"You punched Pallos Organa, after colluding with and granting amnesty to an attempted assassin."

"General Garza felt reparations were in order," Elara added.

Azeel scowled. "I didn't forget," she grumbled. "I just don't think Elin should've lost her temper about it."

Aric and Elara gave each other another look.

"With respect, sir, it was almost a diplomatic necessity."

"Maybe you'll keep it in mind next time you feel like punching Republic allies," Aric growled.

Azeel met his glare with a smirk that said everything about her plans in that particular.

"Comrades! Enemy forces have chosen a swift and glorious end!"

As one, the human members of the squad raised their guns. Across the fields and river, Ulgo's forces were mobilizing in front of his castle, just like Forex had said.

Well, just like he'd meant. The droid's tactical analysis was often in need of interpretation.

"Alright, Havoc Squad. Nobody fall asleep, we want them to feel like they tried their best."

Azeel lead the charge, Forex not a moment behind.

* * *

"Regicide. This is going to be great. I've never killed a king before."

Aqura refrained from rubbing her hands together in anticipation, but it was a close thing. Mako, however, looked less enthusiastic, and Gault was practically lagging behind.

"Maybe we'll get lucky," Gault said, "and he won't have a heavily defended fortress filled with soldiers carrying the biggest guns on Alderaan."

"Ne'johaa, Gault. Don't even suggest that."

"Yeah," Mako muttered, "I don't think you have to worry, Mandokarla." She kicked idly at wildflowers with each step, but her eyes flickered slightly, too. "They don't have as many guns as the Thuls and Organas, or as many people, but they're well trained. I mean, Bouris is a war hero, and he's been preparing his guys for this since the Panteers were killed."

"Oh good," Gault drawled, "so they're better shots than everyone else we've met so far."

"Except the Rists," Aqura said cheerfully.

"Except the Rists," Mako agreed.

"Yay…" Gault cheered weakly.

"There it is!" Aqura ran ahead as the castle came into view. An honest-to-goodness castle, surrounded by a split river and with a backdrop of mountains. It was beautiful. The stonework was a bluish-white that matched the mountains and there were towers that rose high into the sky all around the main castle. What was more, there were stain-glass windows so colourful Aqura could see them even while the castle was so far away, she could cover the main part by holding out an open hand at arm's length.

It was all Aqura could do to keep from giggling in delight. "We're going to storm a castle! Oh, I'm going to tell stories about this until the day I die."

"You keep making me run," Mako was complaining as she approached. "We finally go somewhere nice and I can never stop to smell the… woah."

The girl slowed to a stop, staring at the castle in stunned silence. Aqura grinned at her.

"I told you!"

"Yeah, that's, that's… wow, the pictures really don't do it justice."

"Mm. You've seen one castle, you've seen them all," Gault grumbled, trudging past them and on to the next bridge in this little river-made archipelago. Mako moved to keep up, but Aqura stubbornly stayed to take in the view a little longer before jogging after them.

"You," she declared when she reached them, "are no fun. And when did you see a castle?"

"A few times."

"Where?"

"Places I'm not very welcome anymore."

"Well," Aqura said brightly, "you're in good company, then. We probably won't be welcome back here again after this, either."

"Except with Aitalla."

"Got that right." Aqura and Mako shared a grin. "You ever going to take her up on that title?"

Mako made a face, and Aqura laughed. "It probably wouldn't have been that bad. It's not like you would have transformed into some snooty, pampered snob."

"Not taking the chance," Mako muttered. "I guess I could have gone for a knighthood, though. 'Lady Mako'... 'Lady Mandokarla'," she added, teasing.

"It sounds kandosii," Aqura said, putting her hands on her hips and puffing out her chest.

"I swear the only reason you picked her was that the other guy called you 'Sir'."

"If he was too stupid to figure out I'm a woman, he'd have made a terrible noble, anyway," Aqura said, suddenly petulant. "They have to run places and boss people around. A bit of intelligence isn't too much to ask for.

"Sir Mandokarla," she muttered after a few seconds of silence, and kicked at a loose stone on the bridge they were crossing. It sailed a few dozen meters and landed with a clang in the next field.

Aqura frowned and shared a confused look with Mako and Gault.

"Clang?"

The three of them hurried ahead and found the stone resting beside an armoured woman's body.

"Oh, good," Gault said. "You know what that means."

"There's been fighting recently," Aqura agreed.

"Not quite," Gault corrected, pointing out another couple of bodies nearby and even wandering around to find a few more. "The folks on Alderaan are squeamish. They clean up after themselves."

Aqura looked around at the bodies and raised a skeptical eyebrow. Sure, 'Operation Sunshower' said plenty about Alderaanian sensibilities, but this field obviously…

Obviously…

"This wasn't Alderaanian troops," the hunter guessed.

"Or," Gault added, "the fighting's still going on."

"No," Aqura pointed out the bodies she could see, with Mako walking around to take closer looks at them. "They're all one colour."

"Ulgo forces," Mako said. "They've all got the maroon and electrum colour on their shoulders and helmets."

"What," Gault asked, walking up to check the same bodies, "all of them?"

Aqura ignited her jetpack and launched into the air, scanning all around for a sign of a different colour scheme. After barely a couple of seconds, she let herself fall, hitting the ground again with the dull thump of metal on soil.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "All of them."

"Stars, Mandokarla, give a guy some warning, would you?" Gault stuck a finger in his ear and waggled it around, wincing all the while.

"It's not that loud."

"And it stops being surprising after a few months," Mako added. "So, if all the bodies are Ulgo…?"

It wasn't a good sign. "It means somebody new came through here, and didn't care much for honouring the dead. Did either of you see any lightsaber wounds?"

Gault and Mako both shook their heads. "All blaster marks," Mako said.

"But some of them were pretty big." Gault pointed a thumb over his shoulder at a body that had looked particularly blackened from above. "I don't want to be standing anywhere near whatever did that."

Aqura ran her knuckles along the jawline of her helmet. The dull scraping sound let her tune out all the distractions around her.

"It wasn't Force-users, then," she said slowly. "But it can't have been the usual Thul and Organa soldiers. No way they'd have a fight so one-sided. Definitely offworlders. Guns that big usually mean vehicles, but there's nothing flattened by hovertech. That means at least a few of them have some pretty advanced tech. Mercenaries, maybe? What do you two think?"

Mako shrugged. "I guess I could do a check for mercenary groups that arrived on Alderaan recently. Do you think they're working for the Organas or some rival Imperial faction?"

"I think you're both missing the obvious problem here," Gault said. When they both turned to look at him, he lazily raised a hand and pointed at the castle. "Why would any group of heavily-armed people be attacking Boss Ulgo's troops?"

Aqura's eyes widened, and she swore. "Osik! Hurry, we've got to get there before they steal my kill!"

* * *

"You know," Azeel yelled over the blasterfire, "Katei could have mentioned Bouris had a heavily defended fortress filled with soldiers carrying the biggest guns on Alderaan!"

Elara dove and slid into cover beside her and unsteadily pushed herself to a sitting position. The water covering most of the floor splashed inaudibly as she moved. "With respect, sir, I believe the words 'barricaded' and 'most elite guards' were used."

Lt. Azeel rolled her eyes, then brushed her dreadlocks off her face and looked up at the air above their cover. Or, rather, the blaster bolts that effectively replaced the air. There was an ominous red glow on the pair of them that made Azeel's skin look yellow and Elara's hair look orange.

"Squad, report."

"Sir! They seem to have acquired a cannon capable of doing significant harm to my chassis! I have no idea how the scum are powering it!"

"Alive."

Azeel stuck her rifle out of cover and fired blindly. Somebody screamed, so apparently she'd hit.

"I'm open to sugg-" Azeel whirled, grabbed Elara, and pulled her back from where she'd been about to peek around the cover.

A blaster bolt passed right where the medic's visor would have been. The gouges in the far wall told how that would have gone.

"Can anybody move?"

"Negative."

"Sir! If this mission's victory depends on my sacrifice, I am confident that the brilliant minds of the Republic engineers will find a way to repair me!"

"Stay put, Forex. Nobody's getting sent to a repair shop this mission."

Azeel flicked off her commlink, grit her teeth, and turned up her music. A clicking, rhythmic drum roll drowned out the blasterfire. She fired another few shots into the main of the room and tried to catch a glimpse of Aric or Forex, behind a pillar or statue or something. She couldn't stick her head out far enough to see anything, though, not past the blizzard of blasterfire.

"Hells, Elara." The lieutenant yelled just to be heard. "You don't know anything about Bouris' strategies back in the Great War, do you?"

Elara froze and stared, her eyes betraying a combination of horror and profound regret through her helmet visor.

"Look," Azeel tried, "I know I don't ask this kind of thing, but we need something right now."

She was making it worse.

"Sir, even with a more in-depth knowledge of Bouris Ulgo's methods, his strategies as a general can hardly be applied to a skirmish within a single room."

Elara sounded distraught, so different from her usual crisp, clean way of speaking.

All the lieutenant could do was flick her commlink back on.

Then the top of the statue foundation they were using for cover exploded. The air filled with dust and there was an ominous creaking that could be heard even over the blasterfire.

Azeel looked up.

The statue was falling.

"Move!"

Both women dove to opposite sides of the foundation, Azeel barely avoiding getting kicked in the head by a statue of some long-dead queen. Then a blastercannon bolt grazed her shoulder, and she hissed in pain and huddled up against the aforementioned leg.

They'd been out of options before. Apparently, that had been the penultimate moment of desperation.

"Elara, toss me your helmet!"

The look on Elara's face said there were so many regulations trying to get out of her mouth right now that they'd keep her up all night if they survived. Incredulous didn't begin to cover it. Still, she managed to close her mouth by the time she'd gotten her helmet off, so that was something.

Azeel struggled for a handful of seconds to get the helmet on over her hair, then commed her squad. "I need smoke. All of it. Forex, when it looks like I've drawn their fire, hit them as hard as you can."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

The mirialan managed a faint smile.

"On my mark, Havoc Squad."

"Sir."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

The mirialan took a deep breath, then let it out. Deep breath, and let it out. Her fingers loosened on her blaster rifle.

"Ready up."

The glow of the wall of blasterfire shone off of the inside of her helmet. It was steady enough that it didn't even flicker.

Her shoulder throbbed dully.

"Target my position."

Azeel's eyes focused on a point one step away from her cover. Ankle-deep water, frothing and roiling with the heat of stray blaster bolts. The blastercannon that could hurt Forex hit the stone of the castle wall and gouged it deep.

Deep breath. Let it out. Azeel closed her eyes.

"M-"

The castle rocked in a series of explosions that ended in a crescendo as one of the pillars supporting the roof of the throne room crashed to the floor.

There was an instant of dead silence.

A synthetic voice cried out, "osi'kyr, what'd I hit?!"

Azeel's head snapped to the source of the sound, then back to the spot she'd been looking at before. The borrowed helmet no longer glowed red on the inside.

"Havoc Squad, hit them now!"

Havoc's leader charged.

The room was not filled with soldiers. They only filled it pillar to pillar and all around the central dais. There were four cannon emplacements, one on each corner of the throne's dais. In ranks and in cover were the soldiers, probably fifty or more, all armed to the teeth.

Azeel launched a grenade at one of the cannons. That was all the time she got before the soldiers started firing again. She dove back into cover, shaking her head and blowing at the hair in front of her face.

"Oya!"

An explosion later, the screen of blasterfire on Azeel's position lessened enough for her to stick her head out. Which she did.

There was a Mandalorian in the middle of Bouris' squad formation.

Bouris' guards were probably grateful for the disrepair of the castle for the first time in their careers; several of them were putting themselves out in the flooded center of the room. As for the rest, those cocky enough to have been standing in the middle of the room were now diving for cover. It wasn't working very well. Between the scattered Havoc Squad and Mandokarla's two partners, the area was surrounded.

"Elara!"

"Yes, sir."

"Catch!"

Azeel tore off the woman's helmet and tossed it across the statue's legs to its owner. Then she stood and charged.

There was another soldier trying to get into one of the cannons' gun-seats. The lieutenant took aim so that wouldn't be a problem again, but somebody else handled it. A blaster bolt all but knocked the soldier from his seat.

A glimpse of red betrayed the devaronian, hiding in the corner of the entrance. He'd killed the prospective gunner.

Mandokarla made room for Azeel in the middle of the room and even managed to distract the rest long enough for the soldier to reach the group.

The soldiers milled about in chaos, screaming and turning from one woman to the other. Men fell into the floodwater, trying to douse Mandokarla's flames, only to be trampled by their comrades. A grenade caught three who managed to form up back to back. Two men fell with vibroblade gashes in their necks. Many of the guards scattered and were picked off by blaster fire from Havoc Squad. Their bodies were obstacles for the rest. And if the Mandalorian was a little more graceful about it all, that didn't mean the mirialan was any easier to pin down or avoid. What little blasterfire that found its mark splashed off of their armour without slowing them at all.

Then a deep voice roared over the quieted room.

"Enough!"

Azeel's eyes went wide. "UP!"

She jumped as high as she could and activating her rifle's grapple line in mid-air. There was a loud ZZZAAK! sound and a chorus of screams, including several that were worryingly drawn out.

The grapple hit one of the support pillars and Azeel swung across the room with very little control. She was hurtling towards a stone pillar, the retracting grapple line serving the dual function of keeping her above the electrified water and pulling her towards the pillar even faster.

"Heeeeeeeeeells!"

Behind her, a synthetic voice yelled, "detach!"

Another grapple line shot out beside her and started coiling around her.

Azeel detached her rifle's tether.

What happened next was explicitly not in any manuals anywhere in the galaxy. If Elara was still conscious, she was having a fit.

The line coiled around Azeel twice, then pulled, taking all of her breath with it. Then she was dragged back through the air in a reversal of speed so fast that she smacked her chin against her chest hard enough to hurt her teeth and collarbone. A synthetic yell filled the air, and Azeel heard, for just a second, the sound of a jetpack's thrust. She shot past a golden figure, still high in the air, and the coil around her chest loosened. Not that she could take advantage of that, since her diaphragm was still trying to figure out where all the air had gone.

She landed with a crash on the dais, and only instinct kept her from smashing her face flat on the stone floor. Even still, it was a rough landing. About three seconds after hitting the ground, maybe five seconds after she'd first lost it, Azeel got her breath back. Spots filled her vision, and she reached for a meditation technique to clear them away.

As her vision cleared, she saw a man in Bouris' colours walking up to her. Then he raised his blaster.

Then he wasn't there anymore.

The soldier blinked twice. Mandokarla was standing there, all tall, armoured gold and white glory. The guard wasn't anywhere to be found. Then Azeel looked down.

The guard hadn't gone anywhere. He just… wasn't as tall as he had been.

"Vormur, better get up."

Azeel squinted suspiciously, then started struggling at the ropes around her, more tangled than wrapped at this point.

"Only the two of you left, then," Bouris laughed. "You think you're a match for me and my royal guard? Ha! I won the Battle of Rordak by personally boarding Moff Ceptor's battlecruiser!"

"I've heard."

Azeel snatched up her rifle and stood. "I wish somebody had told me that," she muttered.

Seven guards and Bouris himself. At least the cannons were offline, sacrificed when some last-ditch trap had electrocuted the floor.

She almost stole a glance at her squad. Forex, they could replace the wiring. Aric and Elara, though, if they were… if the electricity had been enough to…

They'd be fine.

"This is your chance to surrender." Azeel stood up straight, cracked her neck loudly enough to echo, and stepped up beside Mandokarla. To the Mandalorian, she whispered, "and you're going to have to explain what you're doing here."

"Please don't surrender. I've never killed a king before," Mandokarla added, then whispered back, "I thought it was obvious."

Azeel grunted and shrugged.

Bouris stepped up beside his guards with a look of utter confidence mixed with determination. It mirrored the lieutenant's perfectly.

"I've fought and bled for Alderaan my entire isn't anyone more capable of saving it from the Empire than I. And if I have to sweep away a few upstarts before taking command, so be it."

"Good luck. Even with my squad down, I'm the best the Republic has."

"I'm not half bad, myself," Mandokarla added.

Azeel glanced sideways at the other woman and nodded begrudgingly.

Bouris, though, didn't look too impressed. He raised his rifle and pointed it directly at Azeel's face. The rifle looked more impressive than any of the ones his guards had.

"I think the advantage is mine, soldier. Stand down and save me the trouble of explaining your death to the Republic."

Azeel smirked. Staring right into Bouris' eyes, she said, "stand down? I could do this in my sleep… Maybe I will."

First, Bouris' face started shifting into a scowl. Then, the tell: his left eye seemed to wince slightly and his head began to tilt right to line up with his rifle's sights.

Azeel moved first, faster than any normal person and definitely faster than some old man. She ducked and slammed the rifle upwards simultaneously, then stepped in with her own and shoulder-checked Bouris half a meter back.

The next part, she didn't even need her left hand for. She kept hold of the barrel of Bouris' rifle and pulled the trigger on her own. With her shoulder buried in the man's gut, there was only one target: his guards. Azeel drained an entire ion cell into the man who'd been standing beside Bouris, reducing the guard to a horrid smell and an empty suit of armour.

Mandokarla had two guards on the ground and a vibroblade in the wrist of another.

Old man Bouris took Azeel's tackle in stride, stepping back to absorb it and reaching for his pistol when he couldn't bring his rifle to bear.

Azeel followed suit, dropping her rifle and letting go of his. Then she slammed her right elbow into Bouris' left wrist and grabbed his right wrist. His arm went wide, she wrapped her own around his waist, and then she pulled up and over.

Bouris' arc was almost graceful, until he landed flat on his back on the stone floor.

He was already kicking at her legs. She dodged, but that gave him time to get his pistol in place, pointed right at her.

Azeel stilled, caught half a breath-

He fired. Missed. Before he could fire again, she kicked the blaster out of his hands and caught it.

A man's voice yelled, "freeze!"

Azeel froze, glancing to the side at one of the royal guard. The last of the royal guard. He had a rifle pointed at her and he was too far away to knock the blaster away.

A grim, scrambled voice said, "no, you freeze." Mandokarla had her blaster pistol aimed at the last guard.

Azeel's eyes darted back and forth between Bouris and his guard. Her head barely moved, her eyes flitted back and forth, lingering only long enough to catch a proper glimpse of each enemy.

She grinned down at the prone king.

"You know, I wasn't looking forward to this job. I figured it'd be boring. Bring some old man home for granny Elin Garza, then get back to the real work. You're really making me work for it."

"Were I in your position, you'd be dead already."

Azeel gaped at the old man. "I've got a gun to your head, and you figure the best response is to threaten me?" She tilted her head towards the last guard. "Is he always like this?"

The guard didn't say anything.

"Look. You're only gonna get one shot at me. Then the big bad Mandalorian who just took down the rest of the royal guard is going to kill you. Now, the problem with that is that I'm going to dodge your first shot. Then you're dead, your king is unarmed, and we've still got all the guns. That doesn't look too good on a resume."

"You're bluffing."

"I'm really not. Why do you think I don't wear a helmet? Apart from devastating good looks, I mean." Azeel grinned and winked sidelong at the guard. "You're not too bad, yourself. There's a way better way this day could end, and all you have to do is put down that rifle."

"Osik, gar dajunar ganaylir kaysh primman baar'tome?

"I have no idea what you just said."

"I do," Bouris said. "'Shit, you plan to catch him using sex?' Besom."

"That sounded like another insult."

"It was," Bouris and Mandokarla said in unison.

Azeel glared. "Look, would you both rather die, or do you want to have the chance to, I don't know, get the Republic to commit more resources to keeping the Thuls off Alderaan? It's better than you deserve after slaughtering an entire family."

"Me'ven? What do you mean, slaughtered an entire family?"

"Yeah," the guard said. "What are you talking about?"

Bouris just glared. There wasn't a hint of remorse in the usurper's eyes.

"Well, that's something. Didn't even tell your royal guards, did you? You've still got one left; here's your chance."

"Scum."

"Fine. Everybody familiar with the Rist family? Fun people, if you're into serial killers. Very friendly, into doing people favours. Favours like the one Bouris needed when he decided the fastest way to deal with the Thul family would be if _he_ was king of Alderaan, and there was the minor detail of the entire Panteer royal line existing."

"No…"

"Hut'uun."

Still not a hint of remorse in Bouris' eyes. Oh, he deserved a few blaster bolts. He really did.

"Your Majesty, this can't- is what she says true?"

Bouris glared at the woman pointing a gun at him. He didn't even look to see his guard's blaster falter slightly.

"What of it? I've given my life to Alderaan, sacrificed more than any of those fools! What did the Panteers ever do except abandon the Republic when the Senate faced a tough decision? The Panteer's folly allowed the Thuls to return. If I had not stepped forward, the Empire would already have Alderaan."

The guard gasped.

"Really?" Azeel face seemed caught half smirking, half snarling. "Well, it's a good thing you're so much better than the Thuls. Otherwise, who would save us from the genocidal maniacs trying to wipe out Alderaan's political landscape? ...oh, wait."

"How dare you!"

"How dare you? By the way, your friends missed a spot. The royal princess is safe in Republic custody, and we even have the crown. Turned up like the Force itself decreed it, right on our doorstep. And through it all, damage done to the Thuls? Net zero. But I'm sure you meant to get around to it."

"Lieutenant."

Azeel stopped. Everybody did. Froze, really. Synthesizers usually drained all emotion from a voice. Apparently, that wasn't always the case. There was a level of cold fury in Mandokarla's voice that sent a chill down the Lieutenant's spine. The royal guard, a man who looked old enough to have seen his share of battle, actually did shiver.

The Mandalorian's blaster pistol wasn't even pointed at the guard anymore. It was aimed square between Bouris' eyes.

"A family. How many ne'kaane? How many children? How many servants and bystanders and innocents?"

"Mando-"

"How many, Azeel? Every one of them is a reason to kill this hut'uun right here."

"Stand down."

Mandokarla glared at Azeel. The guard looked between all of them, gun wavering and never quite pointed at any of the three of them. Bouris lay there, glaring. Azeel herself just shook her head.

"Bouris is a Republic prisoner. He gets put on Republic trial, along with any survivors of his forces." The lieutenant looked meaningfully at the last royal guard.

Bouris, however, was about as smart as every other noble on Alderaan. He didn't know when to shut his mouth.

"I only did what needed to be done-"

"Mandokarla! You owe me!"

The Mandalorian's hand went a little looser on her blaster. She stopped aiming it straight at Bouris. It didn't really make him any safer, but it was a good sign.

"I do." The anger was less cold now. Or, that was hopefully what the less-worrying synthetic sound meant. "You want to call that in on a man like him?"

"No," Azeel admitted, "but I'm not an assassin, and maybe this'll get Elin off my back for all that business with the Organas."

"What business?"

Azeel turned her head just enough to catch sight of the guard. "What's your name?"

The man hesitated, then, "Nader Hest."

She nodded. "Nader, you seem like a decent sort. I figure you're not still guarding this man. Are you?"

Nader met Bouris' glare, shifted his grip on his rifle, and shook his head.

"Good. Go check on our partners. With any luck, that'll put Mandokarla in a better mood."

Nader didn't move.

"Nader, let's put it this way: if they're dead, I'm pretty sure you and Bouris are, too."

"But…" The poor man looked at Mandokarla, who'd gone ominously stiff at her suggestion. "The trap, it's meant only to stun. Can you imagine an indiscriminately lethal defense mechanism in the royal chambers?"

Azeel's eyes flickered to where Forex stood, defunct beside a pillar. Mandokarla turned her whole head to look at where Sparks must be.

"Check anyway. Please."

Nader took a hesitant step, then looked back at Bouris. His eyes hardened, he set his shoulders, and he set off towards the mass of bodies from Azeel and Mandokarla's attack.

"Very well," said Bouris, pulling Azeel's attention back to him. The other woman hadn't looked away from him for a second. "I understand when I'm beaten. I surrender into the Republic's cus-"

"Havoc Squad."

Bouris blinked and opened his mouth to ask.

"You surrender into Havoc Squad's custody. The best in the Republic. Congratulations. You even had us on the cliff's edge for a second." Azeel smiled at Mandokarla. "Force willing, you showed up. Thanks."

Mandokarla nodded slowly, then yelled, "Nader!"

The guard looked up from his splashing about with the pile of bodies he'd been checking. "Yes?"

"Check the cute girl in the blue clothes. Now."

"Very well."

"Pillar by the door, right side coming in."

He nodded again and dashed off, splashing through ankle-deep water the whole way.

"Alright." Azeel gestured with her new blaster pistol at Bouris. "Up. Time to-" She cocked her head at Mandokarla. "Can I borrow some handcuffs? They're not exactly spec ops standard issue."

"No." The bounty hunter raised her left hand and pointed a fist at Bouris. Her bracer made a revving sound.

Bouris, now standing, raised his hands.

Azeel raised a hand, too. "Hold on, hunter. We-"

"Hold still."

A grey mist sprayed from the bracer, covering Bouris and seemingly freezing him.

"Is that carbonite?"

"Yes. And if he moves, something's going to snap off. Should keep him out of your hair until you get somebody to come pick him up."

Azeel gave a look of impressed acceptance and nodded.

"The girl with the implants? She's alright."

Mandokarla's gaze followed the sound of Nader's voice, then looked back at Azeel and nodded. "He gets to live. I figured she'd be fine. Gault, too. They're tough sorts. What about your droid? He survived that EMP you had him use; I suppose he'll be fine, too."

Azeel nodded. "We got Forex some upgrades after that one. If he hadn't already had a few since he got the thing, it would have effectively been a self-destruct button. The brains didn't tell us that before we shipped out, and they won't forget anything like it again."

Her expression went dark as she made the last statement. She looked over at Forex and said, "give me a sec." Then she jogged over to him.

Aric was just a few meters away from the more visible Forex, and both were slumped against pieces of Alderaanian decoration.

First, she checked Aric's pulse.. When he felt fine, she put her arms under his shoulders and knees and started to lift.

She stopped and stumbled forward in the water. "Oof," she breathed. "It's either the heavy armour or the extra helpings of ryshcate, but Forex is carrying you, Aric." Gently, she put the man up against the pillar and moved on to her next squadmate.

It took a few seconds, but she got the hatch on his back open and started fumbling around for his power core. After a few seconds of struggling with her own body blocking most of the light, she activated a flashlight on the shoulder of her chestplate and started looking around properly.

At the sight of hexagonal wire mesh, she grinned, then reached past it to-

"What are you doing?"

Azeel rolled her eyes.

"You're not as stealthy as you think you are, Mando."

There was a splashing sound of somebody lightly stomping the surface of the water, then, "that wasn't what I asked."

"I'm reconnecting Forex with his heart and body. Turns out he managed to trigger his EMP failsafe, so he should be alright once… I… there!"

The cord to the main processor had taken a bit of doing, reaching around the power core from the back, with gloves on, but Azeel was rewarded with the sound of her friend booting up and-

"Woah, woah, Forex! Down, boy, I'm still in your chassis here!"

"Oh! My apologies, sir!"

The droid crouched back down, just enough to let Azeel's feet touch the floor again so she could step away and close up the droid. She latched him shut, patted his back, and said, "you missed all the fun, Forex. Sorry. We got them, though. Want me to get one of the cannons for you?"

Forex spun around at a pace that was relatively impressive, for a droid of his size.

"Sir! I knew that you would prevail, but I am thrilled to see our victory nonetheless!"

"Sure, Forex. But do you want a cannon?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Azeel grinned. "Help me carry Aric. We'll see about calling in some techs and somebody to haul off the Kingsicle."

"Kingsicle, sir?"

Azeel pointed.

"Oh, marvelously done, sir! I can only assume the final Ulgo soldier has seen the error of his ways and is now assisting Republic interests?"

Azeel and Mandokarla helped Aric into Forex's arms while Azeel explained.

"I got off the floor fast enough, but things got a little more complicated by the time I reached the dais. Bouris wasn't much trouble, and Mandokarla helped me deal with most of the guards. I basically talked Nader over there into surrendering. He's still under arrest, but I'll put in a good word for him, especially if he puts in for me."

"Understood, sir!"

Azeel grinned and patted the droid, shaking her head. She winked at Mandokarla and mouthed, "no, he doesn't."

Sparks, Gault, and Aric were placed on the dais beside the Kingsicle. Elara was still where she'd been, behind cover near the statue.

Azeel ran to her.

Elara's armour had the same light scorch marks as Aric's, but she was lying in a position that kept her head up and her back against both the statue and its foundation. She stirred as Azeel knelt down to check on her.

"Nn… Sir?"

"Hey, Elara. Floor taser. Your armour's probably fried. How're you feeling?"

"I'll… need a few minutes to run through self-check procedure, sir. How are Aric and M1-4X?"

"Forex," Azeel emphasized the name, "is fine. His failsafes triggered. Aric's still napping. I didn't expect you to be the first up, actually. Now, up. Come on, that's it."

Elara got to her feet unsteadily, but she was moving under her own power after a few steps. Azeel led her to the center of the room, where Mandokarla was still tending to her team. Nader was still rounding the room, checking on the Ulgo soldiers.

Azeel watched him for a few seconds while Elara got herself knelt down, then asked, "Elara, can you take care of everyone here? I'm going to help look for survivors."

The team medic nodded. "I could move on to the others more quickly if I knew my own condition. Perhaps you could-"

"No." For once, Azeel glared at her friend. "I don't know, and I don't do that. Just- just follow your procedures."

She turned and walked away before the sergeant could apologize.

* * *

"I'm going to go and check on the bodies. I might be a while, you know, talking with Nader and doing quick triage. Elara, your only priority is getting the others back on their feet. Got it? I'll be over there, cleaning up. Understood?"

Aqura watched with a bemused expression as Lt. Azeel splashed a hasty retreat to that royal guard checking on his friends. There was something the hunter was missing there. There were other things to think about, though.

The guard had changed sides the moment he heard about the assassinations. That worried Aqura. How many good, misguided men had she killed on the way to Bouris Ulgo? Worse, Vormur wasn't letting her kill the hut'uun.

As long as Mako was going to be alright, it wasn't so bad. Her and Gault. The Republic would lock the aruetii up for eternity, and that was something.

Her fingers ran through her sister's hair, fondling a dreadlock once in a while.

Why was it that, whenever Mako met Havoc Squad, she ended up burned? Sparks were one thing, but…

One hand came down, not quite touching the angry red ridge of skin where Mako's implant met her eyebrow. Some of the hair had been scorched to ash, too, tempting Aqura to blow away the specks of grey dust. Not that she could, with her helmet on.

"Sergeant… Dorne?" Aqura asked quietly. The sergeant had her med scanner out, but she put it aside and met Aqura's gaze the moment the hunter spoke. It was all very deliberate, focusing on one thing at a time.

"Yes, er…?"

"Mandokarla. It's what I'm called." And she didn't mind, exactly. It was just that it was weird, even after so many months, that her family's nickname for her had become a sort of secret identity. "I was hoping you could take a look at Mako."

Sergeant Dorne nodded at the unconscious girl. "Her name is Mako?"

"You can call her Sparks if you want," Aqura offered with a shrug.

"No, thank you… Her cybernetic implants were affected again?"

"Not as bad as last time," Aqura assured her. There certainly weren't burns to the same degree, or charred metal or anything like that. She lifted Mako slightly, showing the medic as she came closer. "I don't know why not. Last time was an EMP, and those don't usually hurt people. Why would the floor electrocuting everyone be less of a problem?"

The medical scanner buzzed faintly, probably outputting a stream of medical data for Sergeant Dorne.

"Most likely the EMP induced a higher amperage current than the throne room's floor, but the voltage of the trap was far greater."

"Uh…"

"There was more electricity moving when the EMP went off, but the throne room's mechanism pushed its electricity harder."

Aqura blinked a few times, absorbing the concept that those were two separate things, then she put a few things together. "So, Mako burned last time because electricity heats things up, and there was a lot of it, but this time it wasn't so bad because… wait, if the electricity was being pushed harder, is that how it went through unarmoured people, but the EMP electricity didn't?"

The soldier looked away from her med scanner for a long second, then nodded and got back to her work. "These look like the same implants as before. They're extensive enough that I can't see a way to legally replace them, but I'm surprised they're still functioning. Oh."

"Oh, what?"

The med scanner flashed over Mako's right side, up and down her torso and over her right arm. "Mako was very clever. She grounded herself through her right arm. Unfortunately, that does mean she has some internal burns along her right side." There were a pair of hisses as kolto was injected into Mako's shoulder and hip, and Sergeant Dorne sat back. "She should be perfectly…"

Mako blinked her eyes opened and groaned dramatically.

"Ooouch."

Aqura laughed and embraced the girl.

"Ow, ow, beskar is not soft, Aq- Mandokarla!"

Aqura laughed harder and hugged her tighter.

"Er. I'll leave you to it, then, shall I?"

Before the sergeant could escape, Aqura tapped her on the shoulder. The other woman paused and turned all the way back to look at her. It was actually a little disconcerting.

"Thank you. For today and, especially, for Tatooine."

"Just doing my duty. It was, however, a pleasure to do so." Sergeant Dorne turned her attention on Mako. "I am glad you are alright, Miss Mako."

Mako grinned sheepishly. "Me, too."

And with that, the soldier nodded, turned away, and knelt over her squadmate. The droid just stood there, standing guard.

Aqura stared after her, at the efficient way she moved. It was like every action was a part of a list and she checked off one thing at a time. Stow med scanner, remove Sergeant Jorgan's helmet, place it on the ground, open one of his eyes, open the other, pull out her med scanner…

She was pulled from her reverie when Mako started squirming. With a snort, Aqura let her go and they both stood up.

"Check on Uncle Gault?"

"Stop calling him that," Mako said.

Not a chance. It was too much fun. Besides, it was what Gault got for treating them both like kids half the time.

And the rest, like accomplices. Dar'hayc.

They both walked over to the unconscious devaronian and Mako snapped her fingers in front of his face. He made some sound of annoyance, but didn't open his eyes.

Mako and Aqura shared a look.

"I'm not carrying him," said the slicer.

For now, it wasn't a big deal. Except there was one thing.

The droid was free. Mako, however, wasn't going anywhere near it, so Aqura walked up and introduced herself.

"M1-4X?"

The droid turned to face her with a lot more speed than grace, and not much of that first one. "Ah, the brave individuals who aided Havoc Squad in defeating the usurper and traiter Bouris Ulgo! It is good to meet you!"

Well, uh, "su cuy'gar," Aqura said. She wasn't sure if it applied to droids, but it was still a standard greeting. "You can call me Mandokarla. My friend's name is Mako. The unconscious one is Gault."

"Greetings, Mandokarla, Mako! Extend my greetings to Gault when he wakes!"

Wow. The exclamation points were audible. It wasn't that the droid was loud, though it was, a little. It was just that its excitement was as oversized as it was.

"I will, M1-4X. Thanks. Look, I think you should call in for somebody to grab Bouris. He's probably got more soldiers who'll be checking in soon, and the carbonite doesn't last forever."

"Mandokarla," called Azeel. "Don't order around my squadmembers."

Squadmember? A droid? That was… weird. It might be more expressive than the Cosmic Torrent's 2V unit, but that didn't make it a person.

"Just a suggestion, Vormur," Aqura said, turning to see the squad leader splash onto the throne platform.

"Why are you still here?"

The words would have put Aqura on edge, but the resigned way they were said just confused her. Azeel was glaring at her, but the look didn't have any real heat to it, and the mirialan's garnet-red eyes kept flicking over to her squadmates. Even the droid.

The most relevant question was the one Aqura asked first. "We're not going to have a problem, are we?"

"We are if you call in reinforcements before you get out of here." Azeel walked up to Sergeant Dorne, exchanged a few quiet words, then straightened and said, "I still have outstanding orders to arrest you on sight, orders that - Forex - I don't feel the need to act on right now. I just want to get off this planet, hand Bouris over to Elin, and finally track down- never mind. The point is, I have way more important things to deal with right now, and I'm not risking getting my squad hurt dealing with a Mandolorian hunting team. Got it?"

"Wow," Mako muttered, "you were a lot friendlier last time, and that was when you threatened to have us bombed."

She'd what?

"Yes, I did," said the soldier, stepping right up to Mako, "because that was the best decision for my squad. And yes, I was, because Aric liked you." She turned to glare at Aqura, who'd been about to move in before Mako raised a hand. "But he doesn't like you. Sure, it's a racist thing. Sue him. It still means that I've got orders to take you in and a squad that doesn't much like you. I'm not big on orders. Spec Ops is nice that way. So, get out, and I say we never saw each other."

"Sir."

"What?" Azeel whirled on her squadmate, then took a deep breath and just… calmed down. Just like that. It was pretty unnatural. "Elara?"

It would have been really nice to be able to see Elara Dorne's face. It occurred to Aqura that she had no idea what the woman looked like, just that her Imperial accent and spec force job implied some really interesting things about her past.

She was also probably a woman in need of a few drinks. Drinks and stories, someday, when Lieutenant Azeel wasn't being so grumpy.

"By my estimation, and from Sergeant Jorgan's testimony, these Mandalorians-"

"I'm not Mandalorian," Mako interrupted.

"You kind of are," Aqura whispered back. "A little."

Sergeant Dorne continued on, unabated. "-have helped Havoc Squad end an organ-smuggling ring, eliminate a Class Seven threat that may well have been underestimated in its classification, and now, sir, to be blunt, rescued Havoc Squad from a situation which may well have been outside our ability to handle."

"We'd have been fine," Azeel said.

"Be that as it may, sir, but I wonder whether it isn't time to reassess the level of threat these three pose to Republic operations. Why, if I may ask, sir, are they wanted in the first place?"

There was a moment of silence. At first, the lieutenant just stared Sergeant Dorne. Then she gave a sad smile that turned gradually more pained until it became a grimace.

Aqura knew where this was going. She just didn't have a way to stop it.

"Technically," the soldier said, "it's only Mandokarla who's wanted. Well, technically, it's not even Mandokarla that-"

"Vormur," Aqura interrupted as softly as she could. "If I could ask a favour, please keep my name quiet. I have less selfish reasons than you think for changing it."

This time, those eyes seemed to bore right through Aqura's helmet and peer right into her mind. The soldier and warrior met each other's gaze for long seconds before Azeel shrugged and said, "whatever. I thought you just changed it because you're a war criminal."

That hurt. It wasn't something Aqura liked to think about, and it really wasn't something she liked to think of that way.

"A war criminal," the ex-Imperial repeated.

Mako, too, froze. "Wait, what?"

"It's not as bad as it-"

"Mandokarla."

Aqura's explanation caught in her throat. Azeel had a hand on M1-4X's shoulder, holding him back from doing anything, and was shaking her head at both Aqura and Mako.

"Get out of here," the soldier said, attitude back to cold after a moment's nonchalance. "Take your friend and leave, and let's not meet again."

That was fair. More than, really. Aqura had said the wrong thing. She had no idea how many of Azeel's friends had died because of that mistake. For the mirialan, it probably was just as bad as it sounded when she said, 'war criminal'.

Dorne was silent, too, just watching them as Aqura picked up Gault and started walking away.

As she stepped into the water, Aqura turned and managed to catch Azeel's eye.

"I'm sor-"

"I don't care."

That was the end of it. There'd been a lot to atone for when the two of them had first met, and it seemed like the massive weights added to both sides of their scales hadn't balanced out yet.

Maybe another day.

Aqura left without another word. There was nothing more to say.


End file.
